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yuki-world · 6 months

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那维莱特 | NEUVILLETTE ; TEACH

summary | you're just so sexually inexperienced, surely neuvillette, someone who has lived for millenniums, could teach you a thing or two about pleasuring someone?

tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, slight corruption, first-time blowjob, throat bulge, face-fucking, cum swallowing, praise kink, mentions of virginity, 1.9k words

a/n : you have no idea how down bad i am. pt 2 here —> learn

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

neuvillette is not amused.

he’s always open to sharing his knowledge with others; in fact, he has been teaching you a plethora of things, more than you could’ve imagined. you admired neuvillette, he knew that very well. experience was definitely something he didn’t lack.

but some things… aren’t meant to be shared, especially not whatever you were asking for.

“its not that big of a deal,” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “you said you would teach me anything.”

“please, it's unwise to joke about things like that,” neuvillette says. he looks at you for any hints of a smile, a giggle, anything to indicate that you were joking. he sees nothingー just you with your head slightly tilted, waiting patiently for his answer. quite cute, he must admit.

look, he understands that you are a curious person; you’re always up for expanding your knowledge. but isn’t this… a little too much? asking him to teach you how to give a blowjob? it's not like he didn’t have experience with… that. but this topic wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he said you could ask him anything.

but neuvillette has a soft spot for you; he’s come to grow fond of you. what started from him finding it annoying how you pester him on the daily, to him looking forward to seeing you as an escape from his work. you’re like a breath of fresh air. he has no obligation to, but he feels like it's his job to guide and protect you.

the room fills with silence, and you attempt to draw an answer out of him again. he’ll probably give in, you think. after all, he does have a soft spot for you. “oh, but i’m not joking,” you rebutted. “why won’t you teach me?” you try again, hoping your question would be answered.

its silent yet again, the lack of response making you click your tongue. its hard to figure out how he’s feeling, because the look on his face tells you nothing. that’s when you thought you could tease him a little to get a reaction out of him, if that would even work.

“how disappointing. i suppose i’ll just have to ask someone else, maybe wriothesley? i’m sure he’ll be happy to teach me.”

the mention of another man’s name has his attention back onto you immediately. sure, he’s hesitant on teaching you about pleasuring someone. but no way is he going to let you ask someone else about this; he won’t allow it. won’t even consider it. the image of you sucking another man off has him furrowing his eyebrows.

“what do you think? or maybe i should askー”

“i think that’s enough, y/n.”

at this point, you think you might’ve actually made him angry. he’s never sounded this strict with you before, it almost sounds like he’s about to give you a whole lecture on why you shouldn’t be asking for these types of things. but he doesn’t.

it’s such a dirty act, it feels terribly wrong, but he simply couldn’t deprive you of such knowledge. if something like this piques your curiosity, then he will go along with it to satisfy you.

neuvillette clears his throat, composing himself. “i will only teach you onceー once and we won’t speak about this again. does that sound alright?”

he sees your face light up in an instant, nodding eagerly. “thank you, neuvillette! i will be forever grateful!” you exclaim, and he feels his cock twitch in his pants. fuck, he thinks. you’re going to be the death of him.

“kneel for me,” he asks of you, and you lower yourself obediently. you’re directly facing his crotch, and embarrassment creeps onto you. you shy away from the image in front of you, nervously playing with your fingers. your face is flushed red no matter how hard you try to hide it.

he notices immediately, hand reaching to stroke your hair, intending to provide some sort of comfort and reassurance. “are you nervous?” he questions, and you nod slowly.

“oh, love. don’t be nervous. i’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

your heart jumps at the pet name, eyes widening. that felt way too good to hear. you don’t ask if he called you that by mistake, partially because you were too eager to proceed, but also because you didn’t want him to correct himselfー if it was even a mistake at all. “please do, neuvillette,” you urge.

he finally releases his cock from the confines of his pants, hard and erect as it lightly slaps your cheek when he pulls it out.

you almost start drooling at his length. it was so large, so long, so thick. you haven’t even put it in your mouth and you’re already starting to think about how it would feel inside you. the pink tip leaks pearly drops of pre-cum. your hands reach up to his cock immediately, and he hisses.

“eager now, are we?” he teases, while you’re still in awe over his impressive size. he silently chuckles at how you admire his length, almost like you just found treasure. “have you ever seen a cock, y/n?”

you’ve… seen a few. not in real life though, and definitely none similar to his size. it's different, in a good way, seeing it up-close. it’s even more special because it's neuvillette. “not in real lifeー not like this, no.”

“i see,” he says, exhaling as he pulls your hand off, giving himself a couple of pumps. were you really that pure? it makes him so hard.

“are you ready? listen very carefully, yes?” he guides his cock onto your lips, tapping a few times. “take it in slowly, and ensure your teeth don’t touch,” he tells you.

he taps his cock on your lips again, and you open your mouth again without any hesitation. he guides his cock into your mouth inch by inch, and you taste his pre-cum on your tongue immediately. a tad bit salty, but you can take it.

“y/nー oh…” he sighs in pleasure as he feels your mouth wrap around his cock-head. he was in heavenー your mouth was so warm and wet, he could barely control himself from fucking into your face. he should be the one composed, he should be the one staying calm, he’s the one teaching you for fuck’s sake; yet he’s the one struggling as you start taking his cock further into your mouth.

“just like that, a little moreー mmh… thats it,” his breath hitches when he feels the tip hit the back of your throat. he was so deep in, but he wanted to just thrust it in further. you took it so well, he thinks. not even gagging like he expected you to, and no teeth just like he told you to. how obedient.

you adjusted your mouth on his cock as your drool started dripping down onto your lap. your hand reaches up to stroke what you couldn’t take in, and it elicits a gasp from him. he doesn’t instruct you to, but you start moving on your own as if you’ve done it before.

you drench his cock with your saliva as you suck him off, your hands holding his thighs for support.

“such a good girl, y/n. you take my cock so wellー don’t even need to teach you,” he praises and you hum around him as a form of thanks. you take that as motivation as you suck faster, occasionally swirling your tongue on the tip. you tongue his slit, licking up every drop of pre-cum that leaks.

he throws his head back when you take him particularly deep in your throat, and he almost couldn’t take it anymore. he stops you, pulling you off his cock. copious amounts of saliva drip out, a string of saliva connecting his cock to your mouth.

this was a sight he could only ever see in his dreams. your lips swollen, cheeks flushed red, your eyes tearyー god, he loves you, he really loves you. he thinks you look absolutely beautiful even with your face covered in your own spit. this does it for him.

“stay put, and let me fuck your face, alright? can you handle it, love?” there it was again, calling you ‘love’. you’re smitten, you’d do anything after hearing him call you that. “iー i can handle it.”

neuvillette smiles, wiping off some of the drool on your face before he slides his cock inside your mouth again. “as expected of my good girl.”

his hands hold the sides of your head for stability, slowly thrusting into your mouth to test the waters. when he’s sure you’re okay, he starts fucking into your face, making sure you feel every inch of his cock down your throat.

he can’t stopー he’s addicted. truth be told, he’s been deprived of sexual pleasure for so long, it felt like heaven. you took him so deep with no complaints, you deserve so much more for being so good to him. he can’t stop thrusting into your mouthー it feels like he was fucking a pussy.

and then thoughts of fucking you invade his mind. if you’ve never given a blowjob before, surely that would mean you’ve never had sex, which makes you a virgin. fuck, he wants to take you so bad. you’d be so tight, so warm, so sweet. would you like to know about sex too, then? would you let him take you?

he’s brought back to reality as your hand grips his thighs, signaling for him to stop. he thinks he might’ve hurt you, but you continue to your administrations. he’s so close, he feels his climax approaching, but he needs slightly more.

“give me your hand,” he requests, and you raise your hand up. he takes it gently, guiding it his balls as he squeezes them. “yeahー ah, keep doing that.”

what a fast learner you are. you massage his balls as you continuing to deep-throat him. the grip on your hair was getting tighter, louder groans coming out from him. “you’re going to make me cum, love. god, i’m so close.”

he breaks when you take him in so deep, he sees a bulge in your throat. it was his last straw. “ohー fuuuck…” he thrusts into you as he blows his load straight down your throat. you didn’t even have time to taste him or even react, widening your eyes as he throws his head back.

he pants, pulling his cock out slightly till only the tip was left in your mouth, pumping out weak spurts of cum. you swallowed it all, even going so far as to licking him clean of any remnants of cum.

neuvillette is a mess. you’re a mess. he’s so far gone, he still feels the effects of his climax. he pulls you off his cock, helping you up before tucking himself back in his pants.

“are you alright, y/n? are you hurt? my apologies, i should have asked for your permission,” he caresses your cheek, referring to how he came in your mouth. you shook your head. “it’s fineー i… liked it.”

“oh? how naughty,” he scolds, smoothing your messy hair down from how he gripped it earlier. “so, was this a helpful lesson, y/n? do you know nowー how to pleasure someone?”

you nodded. “really insightful. thank you, neuvillette. but…”

“but?”

“maybe... you can teach me what an orgasm feels like next?”

“i see. i will gladly indulge.”

ー @yuki-world

#雪| 那维莱特 neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette smut #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader smut

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imrllytootiredforthis · 1 year

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stray kids reaction to pegging for the first time:

a/n: ignore any grammar/spelling mistakes, it isn't proofread and probably won't be😭

and as always, 18+, minors dni

Chan:

Okay first let’s talk about how it was brought up,

you probably have to bring it up first

And his reaction? He’d act all blushy and embarrassed, surprised in an almost comical way

like “I-i mean i gu-guess, only if you wanted too tho...”

“I do want to, but also if your gonna watch that typa porn and don’t want me to see baby, delete the browser history”

lmao💀

He’d also say he wants take it really slow, and i mean really slow

talking about how the first time he just wants you to feel around him there, test out the waters but not penetrate him yet, give him a handjob or whatever as you do that

the next time he wants just your tongue,

the next your finger,

then two fingers,

pretty much working up in size slowly until you actually use a strap

he’s very cautious about the whole thing in the beginning, so worried and nervous that it's gonna hurt/he's not gonna enjoy it/you're not gonna enjoy it

but the second you’re actually doing it, ‘feeling around’ as he had called it, he’s already begging for more

yeah, you’d ended up doing all of the carefully week long process he’d set up, every little step, in a single night

The second your hands are on his hole, lube already warmed on your hand, fingers all slippery-

he’s begging for more, shoving his hips backwards in hopes of enticing you more

gripping the sheets, trying to reach for you, heavy breathing and flushed face,

baby boy wasn't expecting for it to feel this good

practically breathless as he pleads with you to just push your fingers inside him

and when you do, he’s going cross-eyed with pleasure, legs instinctually wrap around your hips, pushing you further into him

He can barely even believe how good it feels and how he hasn’t tried this sooner

don’t even get me started on how he reacts when you find his prostate

he’d probably cum just from that and then start begging you to actually fuck him, whining in a half-dazed mess about how he needs it, needs you, needs more

Felix:

All I can say,

Is that he’d pretend to be SO surprised, pretend he had no idea you were gonna bring this up,

Like he hadn’t been dropping hints and waiting for you to smarten up and decipher them all this time

Kinda gives it away though because when you bring it up he’s nodding eagerly, jumping on you immediately

Because you made him wait so long for this

You whisper to him, reminding him that you still need to actually buy the strap

No you don’t.

Surprise, surprise, baby boy’s been ready for this for a long time

He’s had one stashed under your bed in a pretty box with a perfect little red bow for practically forever

(Used for lonely nights on his own and dirty fantasies for a little angel such as himself)

Now he’s obviously used it on himself many times before this, experimenting and dreaming and wishing you’d walk in on him

But it’s nothing compared to when you do it

It feels so much better when you do it

He can’t even contain himself, practically shrieking in pleasure

I’d actually advise you to gag him at that point, he’d look pretty with a ball gag but the way his eyes roll back if you shove your underwear in his mouth is delectably sinful

His nails claw into your back, legs hooking up and around your hips, already drooling from the first thrust

Is obsessed with missionary or the mating press, pretty much any position where you’re face to face and he can see you

Not that he’s doing much seeing with his eyes rolled back

I can’t stop thinking about if you’re wearing a necklace or something, with a charm or whatever tf it’s called

(searched it up and it’s a pendant)

He’d watch it, swaying in front of his face, swinging with every harsh thrust and then he can’t help himself but to lean up and wrap his pretty, soft lips around it

By the end he’s a mess, ruined beyond belief

practically dumb as you try to clean him all up, shivering in sensitivity while also begging for more

baby's got an overstimulation kink 100% and that obvious translates to wanting you to fuck him absolutely dumb, making him cum over and over again until he has nothing left to give, a babbling dumb pretty mess<3

and afterwards,

you’re wondering if it was really worth it playing dumb for so long, pretending you didn’t notice his obvious hinting at everything

Hyunjin:

Baby boy just wants to be filled up, just wants to fucked hard and fast until he’s an incoherent mess

And then he wants you to take pictures of him all ruined

wants you add more photos into the albums in your phone

add to all those compromising photos of hyunjin in a plethora of different positions, with different toys and ropes and you name it, add some more of him sucking on a strap or getting pounded

wants you to send him videos that he doesn't even remember filming, getting ruined with a little message under it saying

'you look so cute<3'

But it’s a fantasy

Only a fantasy

A fantasy that he only lets himself indulge in when he’s alone and pent-up and can’t help but pull out the lube and finger himself

Wishing it was your fingers, wishing it was bigger, wishing that it was more

That you were whispering in his ear, talking to him about how pretty he looked under you

Falling so deep that he can almost believe that’s it’s real

feeling so high off of how good it feels, unable to hold back the noises coming out high and needy as he shoves a pillow under his hips, humping it all the while he continues to scissor his long fingers in his ass

He so, so loud, calling your name, begging for you to go faster-harder

you’re out, you’re not around and no one else is he's allowed to be this loud

But, you are in fact not out, you came back because you forgot something or other and you walk in on this sight

Jesus fuck,

He makes a shocked sound, scared out of him mind when he finally sees you, freaking out and covering himself with the covers,

Beginning to cry quickly from the already emotionally-vulnerable moment he was having

You soothe him, rubbing a hand over his sweat-soaked back, hushing his tears,

And then pull out the strap you’d been specifically saving for this occasion

He’s gonna go wild,

Seems to lose all composure the second you’re inside of him, his brain completely melting,

Not a single coherent thought in there for the time being

Just filthy little noises for more, for harder, for faster, he cannot get enough

And then when he’s almost about to come he starts to cry, long arms pulling you into him,

Burying his face into your throat, whimpering for you to please, please, please breed him in the neediest, littlest voice e v e r

Minho:

Lee Minho

The Lee Minho, wanting to be fucked like a little bitch?

Those where actually his exact words when you found the dildo he’d hidden in your closet,

It sure wasn’t yours, you think you’d know if it was🤨

So who’s could it be?

Other than the only other person living in your house, the only other one that would know to hide their shit in your closet, under the mountain of clothing there

But it was a cleaning day

So you decided to go through it

And found it

Not your’s, but it’s in your stuff

“Minho! Is this yours?”

Stares at it for a solid ten seconds, you can almost see the gears turning in his head, almost hear the bullshit excuse he’s coming up with and is gonna use in approximately 5 seconds if you don’t shut him up quickly

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

That renders him speechless

“….😦”, “no?🥴w-what? What even made you come up with that idea?🙄”

“😐...really?”

“Please do.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

He’d try so hard to not be vocal, biting down on his lips, covering his mouth with his arm, clutching a pillow to his face

You remove each one, one after another until finally, finally you get to hear his cute noises

His little mewls and moans that follow right after

His quiet keens and grunted out groans

He loves hates it when you comment on them, cooing about how cute he sounds while you rub your hand tantalizingly over his inner thighs

In fact, just touching his thighs might be enough to make him cum alone

but that’s something to explore another day

You gotta be careful too

Because there is absolutely no way that he doesn’t scratch or bite

Starts off with his lips latched on your collarbone in an effort to not scream, his hands holding onto your shoulders for support, his body reacting with every rough thrust

And it ends off with his bunny teeth digging into your skin so hard that suddenly iron taste fills his mouth, his nails dragging down your back so hard that the flesh tears

Aftercare consists of him sitting behind you, disinfecting and bandaging up the shallow cuts and scrapes down your back, neck and collarbone

But you don’t mind in the moment

Probably because you, like anyone, can’t help but he entranced by the man under you

Begging to be marked, to be fucked harder, to be yours

Only yours.

When you hit his prostate all he can let out is a strangled noise set between a keen and a cry, struggling to keep his grip on reality as you repeatedly ram into it him over and over,

“Good kitty.”

And then he’s cumming all over his chest, untouched

Seungmin:

“No.”

That’s it when you ask him

Straight up no, end of conversation, that’s all, goodbye

“…Okay, can I ask why?”

Doesn’t answer you, refuses to talk about the subject, simply not talking when you ask him

But one day he gets curious, not in a horny way or anything, just wondering why you keep bringing it up

Queue pulling up a very nsfw website and searching up pegging

He scrolls through a couple of videos before settling on one

Through the entirety of the 12 minute video all he can imagine is himself as the squirming, moaning man being fucked

and you as the person standing above him, taunting him, asking him if he likes this, likes being fucked like this

The session ends with him in the shower, fingers exploring new places that he had no idea could bring him such pleasure

And as soon as he’s done he’s groaning, cursing himself for not agreeing earlier

Because how the hell is he supposed to bring this up to you?

He can’t find the words, find the way to tell you,

So he doesn’t use words

And you come home one night, calling out for your puppy to come on out, asking him where he is

The only reply you receive is a small “here!” from your bedroom

And fuck, good thing that boy is pretty because he does not need words

Dressed up in some pretty black lacy panties and a sheer robe that you’re pretty sure you bought awhile ago before it disappeared mysteriously

He sits up against the headboard, watching you with lustful eyes

And there, beside him on the bed is a dildo he ordered, the harness for it already attached

You look at it before back at him as he slides down the bed, right in front of you and lays back, spreading his legs

“Fuck me?”

And how can you say no?

He finds out fairly quickly that he REALLY loves it

And also REALLY loves doggy

Jisung:

He brought it up very, very soon

Like, probably on your first date he’s already telling you he likes to be fucked in the ass

or simply just straight up asking you to do it, pulling out a strap from the bag he brought

Promising you it’s clean

And asking if you wanna go to the bathroom

Baby boy is shameless

He’s watched tons of porn, fantasized about being the whining, whimpering boys tied up with a hot dom fucking the absolute shit out of them until they’re incoherent

He’s asked other people to do it to him too

They’ve all said no☹️

And then he finds you,

You who is very open to the idea, at least halfway tempted by the bathroom idea and the other half thinking that there is so many classier ways to go about it

So you say no

And he pouts

But when you bring home that night and praise and degrade him to the point of tears

Well, he supposes he can be patient

He asks you at least once every day, hoping for the time you finally say yes

But you smirk every time, pulling him close and making him shiver before whispering “no.” in his ear

You say it so many times that the one time he asks and you finally say yes it takes him a second to actually comprehend it

To comprehend that what came out of your mouth wasn’t a no

And when you finally do it you’re gonna bet that he’s loud

Like really fucking loud

Gotta-gag-him-or-the-neighbours-will-file-noise-complaints kinda loud

His voice gets so high too, hitting all them high notes🤭

He’d wanna be as close as physically possible, wrapping his arms around your neck, his legs hooked around your waist, pulling your entire body weight onto him

It makes it a lot harder for you to thrust into him but the way he has such easy access to your neck and ears

Whispering the nastiest shit in the entire history of the world

Boy’s got a mouth on him from all that dirty talk in porn

And he does it all while breathlessly nipping at your neck, squeaking when you hit that sensitive spot inside of him

He’d have the cutest fucked out face

Eyes crossed, drool dripping down his chin, tears spilling over his flushed cheeks

But you’d literally have to wrestle to let him to let go of you so you can see him

Little hiccups and gasps are all he can make out as you coo to him about how adorable he looks

All fucked out and ruined by you

If you wipe up his cum and feed it back to him you could probably get him to cum a second time completely untouched

Baby boy’s never gonna wanna do anything else ever again,

Completely cock drunk and completely obsessed

Changbin:

He seems like he’d bring it up,

Extremely shy all the while, muttering something under his breath that you can’t hear

“Pardon baby, what’d you say?

Poor binnie, he’s be all blushy and nervous

*clears his throat* “u-um, could you maybe…peg me?”

HES SO FUCKING ADORABLE😭😭

Anyway,

You’d obviously agree because why would you actually ever say no?

You’d quickly order all the things you’d need and the day they arrive he just happened to not be home

Leaving you the perfect chance to surprise your baby

He’d come in, all tired from the gym and needy, just wanting to let you take care of him

He comes in and all the lights are off, he furrows his brows, setting his bag down and calling out your name about to start flicking the lights on,

When he sees candlelight coming from down the hall

He follows it am the way to the bedroom where the entire room is lit by candles,

And then there you are, lying on the bed, looking up at him

“Welcome home binnie,”

He's confused but you pull him into a kiss and he can’t seem to think of anything other than you as your fingers skim over his body, feeling over the bulge in his pants, your tongue slipping into his mouth

He’s panting by the time you pull away

“I gotta little gift for you…well maybe not so little.”

He practically gapes as you pull it from out of a box he failed to miss on the bed behind you

You rub his hand soothingly, gauging his reaction “if you don’t want to do it anymore that’s fine, you can always chan-“

“-I want it.”

You smile and spin your positions so now he’s the one with the bed behind him

And then you shove him down

“Just tell me if you ever wanna stop baby, I won’t be mad, I promise.”

Fuck him hard and rough

Manhandle him, switching his positions every so often,

He obviously likes missionary and you get the perfect view of his eyes rolling back

Doggy is fun, he gets so much more vocal because of how much deeper you can hit inside of him, but you don’t get to see him

I recommend next time placing him in front of a mirror, not only so you can see how pretty he looks when he’s drooling but also so he can too

gets more ruined from seeing how own reflection

Riding is one of your favourites, watching the poor thing moan, trying to go faster, rougher, hit that one place inside of him but he just needs you to do it

Letting him beg and try and get oh-so desperate before he starts to cry, pleading for you to just fuck him

FUCKING HIM AGAISNT THE WALL

HDJDDGJSKDHHD

MANHANDLING HIM UP AGAINST IT, MAKING HIM FEEL SO SMALL AND BLUSH

BEFORE ABSOLUTELY RUINING HIM

*ahem*

Sorry, that was a bit overboard

I also have a fantasy abt pegging him at the gym but that’s also conversation for another time

IN:

Okay, but I really wanna corrupt him…

Innocent little innie, you have to teach him everything, show him how to make you feel good

Every time you introduce something new to him he’s like “😧people do that??”

And so one day when you pull out a strap, asking him if you can peg him,

well baby boy is completely clueless

But he remembers how good you’ve made him feel, pleasure he didn’t even know the human body was capable of feeling

He agrees with little to no convincing

Ready for whatever you have in plan for him, ready to be swallowed whole by all that is you and everything you make him feel

Sweet doe eyes looking up at you, glassy with sensitivity, wide with wanting

He’d never imagine that he could feel so good filled up

Never thought your fingers scissoring inside him, stretching him open and preparing him for your strap could feel so mind-achingly good

Enough to make his glossy eyes fall shut, for his hands to grip onto the fabric of your shirt, mouth open with small breathy whines filling the room

God, when you press your fingers against his prostate he swears he can see stars bursting across his vision

He can barely think, barely let out the keen that reverberates through his throat, barely breathe

It feels so, so good and he can feel himself melting

But that’s just with your fingers

Once you’ve deemed him prepared enough you pull out, smirk curling at your lips at the whimper he lets out in protest

That quickly shifts into a gasp when you push into him

Goodness fuck, sweet little innie, voice small and shaking,

Hoarse and cracking

“…please~”

Switching positions so he sits in your lap while you lean against the headboard of the bed

Watching his little pants and flushed cheeks,

Drool leaking from the corner of his mouth as he tries his very best not to go completely and utterly insane with how good it feels,

And how much deeper it goes in this new position

Every little shift and movement pressing the head against that sensitive spot inside of him

He’s so needy and desperate he rides you hard and fast, whining when even then it’s not enough, clinging to you like a lifeline

You watch with a bated breath, eyeing each time he moves up,

Unable to tear your attention yo where he teases you and himself, pulling up so just the tip is inside of him before sinking down just as quick, moaning all the while he’s stretched out again, the entire length sliding inside him with ease

Gasping in frustration as his thighs begin to burn and cramp from exertion

Whining as he paws at you, burying his face into your neck, muttering with a shaky whisper to please fuck him

Your hands tease over his body, ghosting over his hips, feeling him quiver on top of you

Before you finally give in

He practically screams when you flip him over again, starting up a hammering pace that he can barely keep up with

All he can do is mewl and whimper, clutching the sheets and letting his eyes roll into the back of his head

“Good baby, doing so good, just keep doing that.”

That’s his breaking point

Looking at him all fucked out and adorable

You can only groan and kiss his messy lips, red from being bitten, shiny with saliva

And think this was all because of you

a/n: btw, if anyone wants to send me in requests for mtl, reactions or hcs i'd love to do them-they're just sm fun to write!

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bby-deerling · 5 months

Note

Omg i need to read something where law gets jealous (there’s too much pining/tension) because I dont see it enough!!!! who is it x law pretty pleaseeee or I’ll take any similar recommendation 😩💛

thank you galaxy brained anon for this request!!!!!!! happy laws fingers friday for those who celebrate (posting this at 11:59 it still counts)!

law + who is it (nsfw, afab!reader)

18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 1.6k masterlist

cw: jealousy, oral sex (law receiving), pining and yearning, law is an idiot sometimes, no pronouns used but reader is loosely implied to be wearing a kimono (or something else easy access)

Grip harsh on the sheath of his sword, Trafalgar Law was more than eager for this festival to be over so he could be done with this alliance and leave Wano behind forever. Selfishly, the throbbing of his head from Luffy and Kid’s antics and his palpable frustration at the chaos that surrounded them paled in comparison to the pain from the twisted green thorns impaling his heart as he lurked in the shadows, eavesdropping on Kid making his move on you.

It wasn’t the first time either—both Kid and Killer had taken an interest in you on the docks last night. Despite your rejection of their brazen advances, the sight was enough to make Law storm back aboard the Polar Tang and nearly claw his own eyes out, frustrated at the way the feelings he harbored for you were causing him to become completely unglued and far removed from his usual, collected self.

By no means did you belong to him, other than as a subordinate and a close friend, but the reality of the situation did nothing to soothe the possessiveness boiling in his veins. He had spent years pining over you, engaging in a delicate back and forth of pushing the envelope with you, and prior to recent events, he thought these crumbs of affection and teasing would be enough for him to subsist on. Relationships were tricky work, especially at sea where one’s life is a string, constantly dangling between the blades of a pair of scissors and ready to be cut short at a moment’s notice; in truth, Law had never experienced feelings like these before and wasn’t sure he knew how to be in a relationship, but seeing the tentative, unlabeled connection between you become threatened by that hot-headed brute made his brain go haywire.

Soft yellow light from the lanterns illuminating the street frames your face; you were as gorgeous tonight as you were any other, eyes shining bright with the mischief and sharp wit that he adored, and Law finds himself getting lost in your face until the harsh, unpleasant rumble of Kid’s voice reaches his eardrums.

“What’s your deal? Got anyone you’re fooling around with?” Kid asks you, lips curled into a sneer as he eyes you up and down.

You shake your head. “Nope, but if I did, they’d probably have eyebrows.” you tease, crossing your arms and leaning back against the wall behind you.

Law watches cautiously, prepared for an explosion from the emotionally immature giant who hated nothing more than to be poked fun at. Surprisingly, Kid simply chuckles and continues to banter with you, making Law grit his teeth in annoyance.

“But you’ve got someone you’re waiting around for, don’t you? You wouldn’t be playing so hard to get with me if you weren’t holding out for someone else.” he says, taking a step forward and placing his good hand on the wall behind you.

You roll your eyes—Law hopes it’s because you’re annoyed at the presumption that you were playing hard to get in the first place. “Why do you care so much about what’s going on with me?”

“Because I think you can do better than Trafalgar. Don’t you think he’s compensating for something with that sword?” Kid teases; you wince at the chill of his metal finger tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.

“And you aren’t?” you ask, moving your face out of his grip and tapping his prosthetic arm. “The way to my heart isn’t by speaking poorly about Law.”

Not directly having told him to buzz off yet, Kid continues to take your resistance as a challenge. “Fine. He’s not worth the breath anyways. Let’s talk about you instead. You’re smoking hot, and Killer and I want to show you what a good time looks like with real pirates worth their salt. Simple as that.” The look on your face is difficult to read at a distance, and Law’s heartbeat quickly starts to get out of control, mind spiraling at the possibility that you were even remotely considering the offer.

A passerby lingers in Law’s line of sight and blocks his view, and he’s overcome by dread; blood running cold, he feels damned and wretched as he desperately cranes his neck to try to get a glimpse of you. All he can see is Kid’s head leaning in closer to your face, and he finally snaps and allows himself to act on impulse, running into a nearby alley and bringing you towards him with a whisper of the word shambles.

His rational mind immediately regrets his decision to not think things through further and formulate a plan. Using his devil fruit to pull you away from Kid confirmed that Law was weak for you—something that could be used as ammunition against him later if your crews met again on less peaceful terms. More urgently, Law was not in any way emotionally prepared to have the conversation that he had summoned you here for, all of his words drying up on his tongue as he watches you adjust to your new surroundings and stare at him with wide-eyed gratitude.

His stuttering heartbeat quickens to the point of hurting as you throw your arms around him and bury your head into his chest. “Thanks for getting me out of that, Law. You know how I freeze up when I get uncomfortable.” you mumble, glad to be free from Kid caging you against the wall and propositioning you.

Drowning in the feeling of you pressed against him, he holds you tight and allows his head to rest on top of yours. The silence that settles in the air as you squeeze him lasts long enough for him to form a tentative plan of his next few moves to gently tell you how he feels—a plan that completely falls apart when you break the embrace and trace your fingers along the sheath of Kikoku.

“So, Captain,” you murmur with a teasing smile, “is it true you’re compensating for something?” Law swallows hard, knowing you’re simply messing around, but something about hearing Kid’s words echoed back at him spurs him to act. Blood running hot with irritation, envy, and lust, he can’t help but revert to acting on impulse.

“Why don’t you get on your knees and find out?” he shoots back without thinking, crossing his arms as he leans back.

“Out here?” you choke out, face burning; Law doesn’t miss the way your thighs rub against each other, confidence rising with the knowledge that you were craving him too.

“If you want me in my bed too, I can indulge you later.” he replies. He watches your reaction carefully; for a moment he considers stopping here and playing this off as a bit and pushing things off to another day as he always did, but his heart catches in his throat as you drop to your knees and gaze up at him expectantly.

He shoots you a look to confirm you’re serious—an affirmative nod is all it takes for him to unbutton his jeans and free his cock. You inhale sharply at the sight; he’s long with medium girth, and truthfully, you aren’t quite sure how you were going to fit all of him down your throat.

“Satisfied?” he taunts, amused at your reaction and staring down at you with darkened eyes.

“Very.” you reply, reaching one of your hands up to stroke him experimentally, softly sighing at the sinful sight of him in your grasp.

Law lets out a quiet groan as you stroke him, mind abuzz at the sensation, but still unable to curb his smart mouth. “Quit staring and suck it, then.” he rasps, dragging his thumb down your cheek. A chuckle escapes your lips as you take him in your mouth; he gasps at how warm and wet you are around his cock, and his hand tangles itself in your hair, desperate to feel as much of you at once as he can.

He guides your head but doesn’t push, letting you adjust to his length at your own pace. Your hand pumps him at an even rhythm, timed with the circular drag of your tongue along his shaft as you bob your head. Lewd chokes and muffled gasps fill the air as you take more of him in your mouth; the sounds you make are heavenly enough to make him want to lose control, but he holds out, wanting to feel every bit of what you had to give him.

“You’re taking me so good.” he praises; you moan softly in reply and swipe your tongue along his tip as your head retracts, making his breath hitch. Shameless and messy, your thigh twitches as your drool splatters across it; your pupils are blown out with lust, and Law runs his thumb along your jawline reassuringly as you sharply inhale and take him as far as you can, head of his cock dipping down into your throat.

“Fuck, you feel good. Just for me...” he whimpers, legs beginning to tremble as he feels himself getting close. The sight of your doe-eyes staring up at him, tears running down your cheeks from your choking and spit in your hair is enough to make him spill down your throat, breathing ragged as waves of ecstasy take over his body, making him a slave to the pleasure you’re supplying him. As he comes down from his high and catches his breath, the smile you give him is dripping with pride, and nearly springs his cock into action all over again.

“C’mere.” he purrs, pulling you to your feet and capturing your lips with his own as he pins you against the wall. Inked fingers creep up your legs and rub circles into your inner thighs as his tongue pushes into your mouth, desperate to deepen the kiss. Pushing your panties to the side, he swipes two fingers along your slit, making you gasp and leaving him smirking at how wet you were for him.

“Your turn. I’ve got to prove I’m worth my salt, after all.”

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #law x you #law x y/n #one piece smut #mdni #x reader #im counting this as laws fingers friday

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gender-euphowrya · 2 years

Text

hrnnnnmg

#handing in my name change request tomorrow AAAAAAAAA #god i hope this fucking works i hope it goes through i hope they ok it Oh God #it’s not like in the US where you can just pay and name yourself whatever the fuck you want #it has to be Approved like you need proof that you’ve been using the new name you’re asking for #and it has to be like… ‘acceptable’ like you can’t name yourself idk Dumptruck McMike #fingers crossed i’m so nervous holy SHIT #pease work my fucking entire life and mental health depends on it #srsly P L E A S E fuck it’s. Fine it’s fine it’s not like i’m asking for sthg outlandish here 👀#if they say no i’ll throw hands oh my god arson riot homicide robbery #JUST APPROVE IT i’m probably worrying too much about this but OUGH I NEED #i’m gonna shit myself if it goes through i’m gonna buy like a ton of weed #nobody’s gonna be able to tell me shit ever again brain forever stuck on dopamine & serotonin production

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msgexymunson · 1 year

Text

Rumour Part Two: Rose

Description: After hooking up with your hot neighbour, things aren't going as you had hoped. Maybe a note will turn it around for the both of you...

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll put you in detention, Angsty angst, but fluffy, and HELLA SMUT. Sub!fem!younger!reader x older!pierced!dom!eddie, (age gap not problematic) rough sex, oral fem receiving, praise kink, sir kink, pet names

A/N: Please read part 1 first! I'm totally feral for this version of Eddie and apparently you lot are too! Thank you for all your love and support, I really hope you enjoy this!

�� Reblogs are what keep me alive FR. They keep Tumblr alive. If you want more smut reblog my stuff. I'll love you forever, promise.❤

4.6k words

Masterlist Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Marching home from the bar, arms crossed as a barrier against the chilly air, you huff into the night, sending out a cloud of steamy breath. Your mood at work tonight was frankly diabolical. If you were your own manager you probably would have fired yourself. Dropping glasses, snapping at customers, drifting into day dreams, you were a mess. In the end your boss told you to go home, that your head was clearly not in the game tonight; thankfully treating you better than you would have treated yourself.

Nearing the corner of your street, you stomp along, thinking about the man you couldn't get out of your head for the past six days. The man you were trying to push from your mind unsuccessfully. The man that didn't call. Eddie Munson.

After an evening of frankly mind blowing sex, he took you out on a lunch date. You ate nice food, shared a bottle of wine, and spoke about your interests. You discovered a mutual love for art, and a similar taste in music. He was soft, chatty, funny. Afterwards you had gone for a walk around the park, even held hands. For a moment you really thought you had started to connect with him. Then he'd dropped you back home, told you he was a bit busy for the next couple of days, kissed you on the cheek and disappeared into the wind.

It would have hurt less if he had just left after that night, but the date seemed to go well. The only explanation in your eyes was that he couldn't have liked you after getting to know you. The thought stabbed ice through your heart.

As you approach your building, you see a familiar figure sitting down smoking. You still your movements, trying to collect your feelings and push them down deep inside. Taking a deep breath, you slip on the blankest look you can muster and march straight to your door.

"Hey pretty girl."

No matter how much you try to mask, that gruff voice and those words just do something to you.

"Hey." You throw back, not bothering to look in his direction. You hear the creak of leather as he gets up. Desperately trying to get your keys out of your pocket, you end up dropping them on the floor. Well done. Smooth.

Eddie's closed the distance between you, reaching down to swipe the keys into a large hand. He looms over you, standing close, inches from your shaking form. The atmosphere is stifling, tension in the air laced with your anger.

"Can I have my keys please." Your gaze firmly locked away from him.

Eddie hands them over, but grabs your small hand in his when you try to pull away.

"Can you look at me, sweet thing?" His other hand reaches for your chin to pull your gaze towards him, rough fingers coaxing you. Struggling to resist him when he's in the very air you breathe, you let your eyes meet his.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I upset you, I've just been-"

"-really busy? Yeah." Your tone has venom, it coats each word, leaving your mouth with a bitter taste.

"Look I'm sorry, do you wanna-"

"I've got to go Eddie. I'm super busy." You snatch you hand away from his and take your front door key, jamming it into the lock. Eddie steps back, arms up, giving you space. It takes everything you have not to turn around when you slam the door behind you.

You lean against the door, shaking, biting back the tears that are begging to roll down your cheeks. Hot and flustered, you do your best to calm down and just breathe. You slide your back down the door and sit on the floor with your head in your hands. This is stupid.

Maybe you should have let him explain. What explanation could there be though, after he made you feel like that, then disappeared into the mist?

Lifting your head weakly, you notice a piece of paper folded in half on the welcome mat, seemingly shoved under your door. Curious, you pick it up and open it. It's from him.

Underneath the hastily scrawled note is the most beautiful pencil drawing of a rose you think you've ever seen. It almost looks like you could pluck it off the paper. The detail is simply breath taking; there's even shining dew drops on the velvety looking petals. You're half expecting a floral sweet scent to roll off of it.

Hey sweet thing, sorry I've not called. You must be at work. Knock when you get this.

E.M x

p.s. You said you like roses, I drew this for you.

Your hand flies to your mouth, shocked at the sheer beauty and intricacy of it. What's more, is that you're not even sure you remember when you told him roses were your favourite flower. It can't have been recently.

Shame drips down your throat and into your gut at how you'd greeted him earlier. Determined to resolve this before it goes any further you stand up and make your way back outside. Eddie's chair is empty. Taking a deep breath, you steel your nerves, walk across the courtyard and knock on his door.

It swings open a crack, and then all the way. Eddie stands in the doorway shirtless, tattoos strewn across his chest, messy hair loose and wild. His sweat pants are hanging low on his hips, cut groin and hip bones on display, his dark thatch of hair leading down drawing your eye. You take a shaky breath in; realising you're staring, your eyes snap up to meet his.

He looks from your face, down to your hand still gripping his drawing.

"So, you got my note huh." Flashing you a small smile.

Throwing your arms around his neck you kiss him hard. He staggers, taken aback by the gesture, but only for a moment. Then his hand is on your lower back, the other in your hair, as his tongue flicks across your bottom lip begging. You submit, his probing tongue dipping deep into your mouth, saying everything his note did not. You feel the steel of his piercing rub against your tongue, massaging in the kiss. Pressing up against him it's impossible to ignore the growing bulge in his sweat pants forced against your beating core.

You both break from the kiss, eyes seeking each others.

"I'm sorry-"

You laugh, speaking in unison. He presses hot, hard kisses to your lips, tongue running down your neck, beginning to bite and suck. Moaning, your nails dig into his back.

Eddie breaks away from you, leaving you pouting, neck stretching towards his perfect mouth, chasing the feeling.

"Listen, as much as this is incredible, can I talk to you?"

Taking gasping breaths you try and steady yourself.

"Yeah, sure." Still focusing on pacifying your breathing.

He takes your arm and leads you inside, gesturing to the couch. Taking a seat you glance around the room. It's a mess; not exactly dirty but there's things everywhere. Several guitars and amps lean haphazardly on the walls. A tower of books threatens to spill over the side of the coffee table. A few empty beer bottles sit in various states on the counter top. There's a desk, covered in writing and drawing implements, more books open around paper pads, you assume for reference purposes. You don't see many photographs around which seems strange to you. The only framed picture on the wall is a younger Eddie with an older man, balding in a checked shirt, maybe his father? There's another frame on the window ledge which you can't make out much detail from, looks like a crowd of teenage boys.

Eddie sits beside you, hand resting on your knee. When he speaks his voice is brimming with emotion, something you're entirely unready for.

"Listen, I just wanted to explain. I really like you. It's just," he pauses, staring at the corner of the room, lips pressed together, "I'm not used to this. Any of this. I'm not exactly seen as boyfriend material, you know?" He laughs softly at that, eyes seeking yours. You nudge him with your hand, willing him to continue, fingers tracing encouraging circles on his thigh.

"People see me as a one and dump. I've gotten used to it, not many wanted me my whole damn life. Meeting you, and getting along, outside of sex, I just- I was scared."

His doe eyes meet yours and you melt. The strong, confident man has melted away, exposing the soft, tender boy in front of you.

Clambering onto his lap, you stroke his stubbly cheek.

"I don't see you like that." Locking eyes for a second, you lean in to press a soft kiss to his full lips. His eyes close, kissing you back gently, mouths moving in sync. His hands stroke delicately down your sides, so much so that you twitch.

"Sorry, that tickles," you breathe out, wiggling away from his attention.

"Oh, ticklish eh?" He grins deviously, fingers tracing agonising patterns in your sides.

You giggle, bucking out your hips, trying to escape from the feeling. Reaching out your own fingers you dig into his sides trying to get your own back.

"Oh sweet thing you're really in for it now!" Before you can understand what's happening you're on the floor, Eddie pinioning you to the carpet. Hands held above your head, his whole body weight is keeping you in place.

"OK you win, please sir let me go!" You tease.

Eddie's irises shrink back, pupils blown, predatory gaze roaming over your features.

"Oh now that's not fair pretty girl." He bends forward, large hand encompassing your wrists, kissing and suckling at your exposed flesh.

It takes a second, but then it hits you.

"Sir please."

Eddie groans into your neck; his hard length pressing forcefully into your core.

For confirmation, you cant help but play into it further.

"Oh please, please Sir, please let me go!" Smirking, bucking into the air.

The noise that leaves Eddie's throat is gravelly and animalistic, grinding into you with abandon, hand holding you tight by the wrists. Your giggles have transformed into moans, pulse travelling to your heat.

His hand roams from your wrists to pull your top over your head, exposing your bare chest. Eddie wastes no further time in licking down to your exposed breasts, tongue trailing to your nipples.

"I thought you were a good girl, sweet thing," and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. The swirl of his thick tongue around your sensitive buds makes you wail, hips humping up to meet his. He sucks onto your exposed nipples hard, the feeling sending bolts of arousal through your chest, massing in your stomach.

"Please Eddie." All confidence stripped from you now that you're squirming beneath him, rough stubble from his chin abrading your delicate skin.

Unlatching from your chest he draws level with your face. The dark, steely glint in his eyes makes your cunt throb. His breath fans across your face; the smell of Eddie's skin permeating all of your senses.

"That's not what you called me before."

A rugged hand enwraps your neck, squeezing softly at the sides, almost a threat. The rough touch makes you whimper. He's not constricting your airway, just letting you know whose in charge. As if there was any doubt.

"Please sir."

His eyes close as he grunts, suddenly pulling off of you. He rips the fastenings of your jeans open with an unruliness that has your cunt clenching, attempting to drag them off your legs along with your underwear. Eddie realises too late you've still got your shoes on and you huff a laugh at his obvious frustration. The laugh dies in your throat however when he uses brute force to pull your trainers off your feet, ignoring the laces. You whine at the display of strength, arousal gripping you so tightly that you feel it in your bones.

Laying on the carpet fully nude under his powerful gaze, you attempt to shy away but Eddie stops you immediately with a simple wave of his hand. He rubs at your sides, taking a moment to stare at your naked form shamelessly. You don't think anyone has ever looked at you this way, with such need, wanting you this hard.

"You're really fuckin' beautiful, you know that?"

You flush at the attention, cheeks burning. His fingers smooth down to your slit, groaning when he feels how wet you are.

Without warning he flips you over, pulling a shocked yelp from you. Rough hands grab your hips, manhandling you exactly where he wants you, dragging your ass closer to him.

You jump slightly at the first contact of his swollen cock, feeling the rub of steel from his piercing drag back and forth over your folds collecting your slick.

"You ready sweet thing?"

"Mmm please-"

He starts pushing into you and you gasp; you'd nearly forgotten how big he was. The push into you continues, his girth making you bite your lip, dragging against your slick walls. He wholly sheathes himself in you and you stretch around him, filling you completely; heart, soul and cunt, belonging to him.

Eddie's warm, firm hand strokes down your spine, coming to rest on your hip, thumbs rubbing into the doughy flesh, fingers gripping possessively.

He bends over you, messy hair trailing tickles on your shoulder, gruff whisper in your ear.

"You ok sweet thing?"

Your cunt is already twitching, zaps of pleasure dancing through your insides at each flutter of your walls.

Breathlessly you manage "yes, please, fuck me sir."

Eddie growls "fuck."

He ploughs into you, setting a gut-wrenching pace, slick sex sounds slapping through the apartment. Your arm grazes the coffee table and a pile of books tumbles down. You see a flash of a dragon on the cover of one. The carpet digs into your palms and knees.

"Fuckin' hell sweets, so tight, fuck."

A flash flood of passion flows through you, expunging any discomfort at his size.

Brutal moans blossom from deep in your chest, long and drawn out, shaking in pitch from each thrust of Eddie's hips. You feel Eddie's hard member persistently hitting deep inside, hard ball of metal from his dick piercing amplifying every move. Your high hits you quickly and without warning, a lightning bolt of pleasure rocketing out of the pit of your stomach, shocking through your entire body. A tsunami of slick arousal rushing from your cunt, nearly pushing out his sizable length from sheer force.

Eddie's groans are guttural, bestial in nature. He roughly pulls you bodily towards him until your back is flush with his sweating heaving chest, pecs flexing. One hand remains digging into your hip continuing his forceful pace, other hand pulling up to your chin, holding your head firmly in place whilst he babbles filth in your ear, making your walls tremble around him.

"Fuck, calling me sir. My good girl's dirty isn't she? My good filthy girl, fuckin' soaking me. Yeah? Pretty little cunt soaking me, oh fuck-"

His thrusts flounder briefly, his climax hitting him harshly, coming deep inside you with a brutish grunt.

Both of his arms wrap around your form, sweating bodies impossibly close, panting, coming back down to earth together. Smooth lips and rough stubble press against your cheek.

You move to pull away from him and the pain in your knees hits you suddenly, buckling to the floor with a rush of air from your lungs. Laying on the floor, boneless and weak, but giggling.

"Shit you ok sweets?" Eddie hovers over your chuckling body.

"Yeah, just my knees are fucked."

"Sorry, probably should have taken you to the bedroom huh." He looks embarrassed, hand stroking the back of his neck.

Scooping you up in his strong arms he places you on the sofa. He strides off, returning with a damp cloth. Tenderly cleaning your core, he moves his attention to your knees.

"How are they now?" Eyes wandering, examining, brimming with concern. The look makes you melt.

"Apart from wicked carpet burn, fine. I think I'll live" chuckling at your own words you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you to deliver a sweet kiss. He pulls himself up to sit on the edge of the sofa and leans down over you, forehead pressed to yours.

"So, am I forgiven?" Smiling with that cocky look of his.

You pretend to think for a moment.

"I suppose. But don't do it again."

"Wouldn't dream of it pretty girl."

********************

It's a couple of weeks later and you're standing in the tattoo shop where Eddie works, marvelling at the artwork on the walls. You hear the incessant sound of a tattoo machine and some generic rock radio playing in the background, other artists busying themselves with their work.

"You sure about this sweet thing?"

"Yeah I'm sure," you say shyly back, nerves getting the best of you.

"Do you see anything you like? Those ones over there are mine, I've got my portfolio too if you wanna-"

"I've already got a design Eddie."

He frowns, clearly not wanting to create someone else's art on your skin. Your cheeks flush, and you pull a piece of paper out of your pocket and wordlessly hand it to him.

It's his note, the beautiful drawing of a rose almost hovering off the paper. The reason you're dating.

Eddie seems taken aback, staring at his drawing as if he were looking at it for the first time.

"Oh pretty girl, are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure. Just like that please, it's perfect." You smile at him, your own eyes betrayed your feelings, glossing over softly.

Smiling back at you, you gaze at each other for a moment.

Eddie coughs and looks away. "You want this in black and grey, or colour?"

"Hmm colour I think would be best."

"And where are we thinking?"

You point to next to your hip bone over your skirt, slightly lower. Eddie glances at the area and runs his tongue over his top lip, steel ball glinting.

"You know, that's a pretty sensitive area. Are you sure that's where you want it?"

You nod, eyes meeting his.

"Ok let's get upstairs, it's a bit more, private."

Leading you to the empty upstairs and across to his workstation, you're pleasantly surprised at how clean and tidy it is. You sit down in the big leather chair whilst Eddie sorts out the stencil and gets the inks ready.

"Ok so do you wanna just pull your skirt down a little or-"

You flip it up instead, given where you wanted it, it seems easier. Eddie's eyes are transfixed on your baby blue panties.

"Eddie..."

"Yeah, shit sorry, ok right here, yeah?" He traces a gloved finger where you pointed. You nod and he pulls the hem of your underwear slightly out of the way, kissing your hip bone.

He preps the area, lays the stencil down and turns the tattoo machine on. The noise buzzes through your jangling nerves making you tense up involuntarily. Eddie strokes your thigh, firm hand coming to rest.

"You gotta relax, my good girl, or its gonna hurt more."

You huff a laugh at the familiar phrase.

"Hmm I think you've said that before, about something else."

Eddie's eyes sparkle impishly at the memory. "Well I was right, wasn't I?"

He leans over to your face, turning the machine off for a second, and whispers, "are you gonna be a good girl for me?"

"Eddie, I- fuck, don't do that in public!"

He laughs wickedly, flicking the machine back on.

"Just stay still sweet thing, I'm starting now, 'kay?"

When the needle finally hits your flesh you're pleasantly surprised. Oh it hurts, certainly, but not as much as the buzzing made you think it would. It was more annoying than anything, a persistent scratch.

"You good sweets?"

"Yeah that's fine."

He leans over you, using his left hand to steady himself high up on your thigh. Heat is pouring off him, the grip of his fingers occasionally making you want to squirm. You're sure you're getting wetter by the second just by being in close proximity to him. There's something about him concentrating the way he was, entirely oblivious to the world and in his element, that made your heart swell.

Each word of encouragement from him, each check in was making your cunt throb, pulse in your core threatening to make you twitch under him.

"Sitting so still, doing so good for me."

"Atta girl, you taking the pain ok?"

"My sweet thing, doing such a great job."

When the outline is complete, he turns off the machine to check in yet again and you feel like you're ready to explode into a horny mist.

"Sitting so well for me pretty girl. Do you need a break?"

"No I'm good," you manage breathily. His eyebrows raise, taking in your flushed cheeks and wide glassy eyes.

'Are you enjoying this sweets?" Smirking, his eyes flit from your face to your baby blue underwear, smiling wider when he eyes the growing wet patch.

"I don't know, it's just, you're really close to, you know, there," you gesture downwards, flushing even further, "but you're not touching me and you keep praising me and-"

"Well you're taking it so well, being such a good girl for me, I've got to let you know right?" He bites his lip, flashing his teeth deviously.

"Eddie" You squirm in your seat, heat of his gaze too much to take. To your surprise, embarrassed, hot tears are starting to form in your eyes, unable to process so much praise and feeling all at once.

"Shush shush, poor sweet girl, don't cry. We've got the shading to do and then I'll reward you." He winks.

You nod dumbly, wiping tears from your eyes; a subby mess on his words alone.

Eddie gets to work on the colouring and shading, constant praises falling from his perfect lips.

You space out, endless accolades making your head fuzzy, taking you away from the perpetual pain. Little by little the background noises disappear, the radio downstairs switches off and the shop sounds empty.

You hear a disembodied voice from the vicinity of the doorway.

"Eds, I'm leaving now, lock up when you're done!"

"No worries bud!" Eddie shouts back, continuing to focus on the red of the rose.

Pain starts to mount again, relentless rasping of the needle starting to take its toll. You wince, doing your best not to tense. Eddie switches to white for the highlights and you hiss at the touch of the needle.

"Ok pretty girl, I know, nearly done I promise."

You nod, hands balled into little fists.

Finally after what seems like an age of little touch ups Eddie declares he is finished. He helps you up onto wobbly legs whilst you hold your skirt up awkwardly and waddle over to the mirror.

Gawping at your new ink, you gasp in astonishment. It's as if he'd plucked a rose at dawn, sprinkled with morning dew, and laid it carefully on your hip.

"Eddie, its perfect, it's incredible, honestly. Thank you." You can barely believe its real. Turning to Eddie you give him a kiss on his lips, soft and lingering.

"No problem pretty girl. Lay back down lemme wrap it for you."

Hopping back onto the leather chair, you lay back on your elbows, watching him cover your new tattoo with plastic wrap and surgical tape.

"Thank you again, I love it. Shall we go?"

"Oh sweet thing, you're not going anywhere."

You look at him in confusion. He takes his gloves off, hungry eyes transfixed on your heat.

"I've sat here, inches away from this pretty pussy, looking at this cute little wet patch and I can't take it anymore. I can fuckin' smell you sweetheart, it's not fair."

A flush blooms over the apples of your cheeks, thighs clenching at his filthy words.

"Scoot down for me."

You wiggle your hips until you're at the edge of the reclined seat, skirt bunching up in the process. Eddie kneels before you and peels your underwear off, carefully avoiding your new ink. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder, leaving the hip with the tattoo alone.

"Now I'm gonna be gentle and you can't move, ok? Don't want you smudging." He winks at his joke and starts pressing delicate kisses over your pussy, hot breath tickling you. His tongue pushes into your folds so slowly, running up and down with a languid place. You moan and shudder at the feeling, intensity magnified by how on edge you'd been, waiting for this for hours. Every agonisingly slow movement sent tingles to your core, warmth spreading to the tips of your toes.

High pitched mewls and whines fill the room when Eddie turns his attention to your clit, teasing it gently with his tongue stud, hard nub sending thrilling tendrils of pleasure deep inside you.

"Eddie, fuck that's so good." You whisper, eyes fluttering shut.

Eddie hums into you, continuing to make out lazily with your cunt, his own moans swallowed up by your heat.

Impossible, unimaginable feeling floods your system; it was as if every nerve was singing, blending together into a choir of pleasure. The intensity, the passion, the emotion he was conveying between your legs was pushing you to a precipice, looking down at your potential release from a dizzying height.

It was all too much. Tears fall down your soft cheeks, utterly caught up in so much feeling.

"Eddie, I can't, its, it's too much-"

Hot breath on your cunt, "it's ok, sweet thing, I've got you, let go."

He takes your clit in between his lips and kisses, and kisses, and kisses. Pressing his tongue to it one final time he suckles softly and pushes you over that edge.

Stars collide. Your release meanders through your very soul, ripping away any semblance of breath, clenching and coming with a silent cry, tears still falling. It flows, collects itself and continues, pleasure in perpetuity, leaving no part of you untouched by its warmth. The feeling finally dissipates, leaving you breathless, thoughtless.

You're not sure how long it took for you to return to yourself, but when you do Eddie's pressing the softest kisses to your cheek, lips, nose, even your eyelids. Your eyes flutter open, wet and glossy, and full of feeling for the man in front of you.

"Hey pretty girl."

"Hey baby." You smile softly.

He grins right back; its the first time you've called him a pet name.

"Stay at mine tonight?"

"I might have to, pretty sure that was the best orgasm I've ever had. I may need a wheelchair."

He laughs, cocky grin firmly in place. "I could carry you to the car if its that bad..."

"I'll manage I'm sure." You get up, wobbly as a baby deer but upright. He steadies you, strange look in his you're not used to.

"Eddie, can you pass me my underwear?"

"What underwear?" He's trying to pull a serious face but his mischievous eyes betray him.

"Eddie!" You hit him on the arm. He just laughs in response.

You huff, and smile, and squeal inside at the sheer joy of the moment.

Masterlist

❤ If you want to be added to my tag list please comment/reblog and say so sweet thing (tag list in comments as it's grown arms and legs) ❤

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dilatorywriting · 6 months

Note

Congrats on the milestone! It's always a delight to see your stuff pop up on my dash ^.^ I'd love to see prompt 19 from the dialog that makes your reader swoon with the guy of your choice (smut welcome). Hope the bot infestation takes a chill pill!

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 1.7k

Prompt 19: "If you don’t stop looking at my lips without doing anything about it, I will take you right here on this counter."

🌶️ Warning for Mild Spice

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

Vil was drunk.

Or well, Vil was as inebriated as he would most likely ever allow himself to be in any sort of public setting to speak of. Which was still above and beyond what you had ever seen of him up to that point. Which was of course to say that he was still walking effortlessly in his sky-high heels and maintaining every bit of the decorum with which he so usually prided himself. The only reason you could tell the difference at all was because you knew this stupid man better than the back of your own hand. And the loose-limbed ease about him combined with the lolling smirk on his lips was as telltale of a sign as any. Not that you could blame him. Winning any award was certainly an honor. Beating out Neige Leblanche of all people would probably have had him drunk on success even without the literal booze to help him along.

He rolled the half-empty flute of bubbling champagne between his fingers and tipped it towards you like an offering.

“Care to try some?”

You huffed, far too fond to be properly exasperated. “At least one of us needs to be able to drive home.”

And your tolerance was, unfortunately, not great. At least, not for the horrifically potent nonsense that this magic-infused world called ‘wine.’ The last time you’d drank during one of these events you’d wound up nearly beating a rude reporter with his own camera, but thankfully had only had the coordination to call the prying ass all sorts of colorful and very impolite things. (‘Secretly fucking Neige Leblanche’ indeed. Vil hadn’t even asked his PR team to spin that one. Just loudly demanded that your indignation should speak for itself and that any such inquiries into your private affairs would be handled personally in the future.)

Vil snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll be calling for a car either way.”

He tilted the glass again, and you were forever grateful that he wasn’t a sloppy drunk. You didn’t care if he spilled booze all down your front and stained the stupid, too-expensive outfit he’d all but sewed you into, but the fussing that would ensue would be torturous.

“Just a sip,” he coaxed. “I promise you’ll like it.”

You scrunched up your nose and sighed, plucking the flute from his hand. You went to take a small sip and one of those perfectly painted nails reached up to tap irritably at the rim.

“What?” you frowned.

He turned the glass until the other curved side sat at your lips and gave another pointed tap tap tap.

“From here.”

You went nearly cross-eyed trying to stare down at the rim, and with a bit of determination were able to finally pick out the traces of an imprint from the actor’s otherwise impeccably maintained lipstick.

“Are you serious?” you snorted a laugh.

Those perfectly lined lips of his pursed into something that you would dare to call a pout.

“If you’re not going to let me kiss you in public, then you can at least give me this,” he huffed.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, lips still twitching far too much in amusement. “That was your rule. ‘For my privacy,’ you said.”

He waved you off with a scoff. “Please. That was only when we were keeping entirely out of the public eye. I could hardly complain about it now.”

Now, he said. Like he hadn’t graduated from NRC less than a year ago. Like your introduction into his world of stage lights and red carpets hadn’t all been meticulously curated and released only a month or so prior. You blinked, a bit owlishly. And then decided to indulge his petulance and took a neat, slow slip from right where he’d tapped. Vil was always honest, brutally so. He had no compunctions about telling you what he wanted, when he wanted it, and how it was going to happen. So it wasn’t like the touch of alcohol swimming through his system was going to make him more truthful, just… perhaps more loose with it, it seemed. Less manicured, in his speech.

The model looked endlessly pleased and reached out to snatch the glass back. He lifted it back to his own lips—carefully placed, just as he’d demanded of you—and took a long drag.

“There,” he grinned, all smug satisfaction. Like tricking you into an indirect kiss was any sort of accomplishment to begin with. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You were going to burst out laughing, and someone was going to get it on camera, and Vil’s stupid assistant would never let you live it down.

“I guess not,” you hummed. “How much longer, do you think. Until we can go home?”

Vil took another sip, drinking down the last drops of the sparkling concoction. He deposited the empty glass on a passing server’s tray and turned on you with a sharp smirk that was far too wide and far too wine-warm.

“That anxious to get me alone, darling?”

Oh he was really gone.

You grabbed his hand and hauled him towards a more secluded alcove. Because he hadn’t exactly shouted that, but enough curious heads had turned your way that you weren’t going to chance it. ‘Exclusive after party,’ your ass. No reporters didn’t mean no wandering eyes and ears. And he may have been punch drunk enough not to give two shits, but his PA would certainly make the two of you ‘care’ come morning.

“We’re in public,” you hissed, cheeks dark and ears warm. “Don’t say things like that!”

“Oh?” he crooned, stopping in his tracks. You gave another tug but it was useless. Stupidly towering height aside, Vil was all lean muscle and stubborn determination. If you were moving him at all, it was only because he was humoring you enough to step to your demands. “But that’s what you are, isn’t it?” He leaned forward and you could smell the pop of alcohol off his tongue. “Or at least, you certainly act the part of ravenous lover well enough.”

“Really,” you snapped, hushed. “If you’re going to be like this, do you have to use those stupid lines on top of it?”

“Stupid?” Vil frowned, and his fuzzy gaze focused into something sharp. “Your reactions don’t normally imply that those ‘lines’ leave much to be desired.”

You could feel your ears going hot as coals. “Yeah. Well. In the moment is a lot different from—we’re not talking about this right now!” you squawked. “Your assistant is going to kill me if she finds out I let anyone hear you like this.”

Vil snorted and pulled you the rest of the way into the alcove. “She would never. And besides, it’s my prerogative to say whatever I wish,” he finished on something that was nearly a pout. His lips pressed into a firm line, determined. “Should I try again then? If you thought that one was so stupid.”

“Vil—” you hissed.

“Hmm,” he mused, deliberate. And then, “How about this one, then. All of the accolades in the world couldn’t compare to the sound of my name, cried from your lips.”

You squeaked and ducked your head against his shoulder, fingers digging into the too-expensive fabric of his suit.

“No?” he cooed, a bit of that familiar, mocking, edge curling over the word. And you were left to wonder if he was really that drunk after all. “Let me try another. As much as I enjoy those cries, I think I like the whispers even more—every part of you of that whispers temptation,” he recited, far, far too warm, “as if the Gods made you just to ruin me.”

“Would you please just—” you squawked, mortified and melting from head to toe. You were about to remind him again, plead nearly, that they were still very much in public. But then a thought shot off in your head like a lightbulb clicking to life. “You like this,” you hissed at him, accusatory.

“Like what?” he droned, crowding you against the wall. It was dark in the little corner, quiet, but not nearly enough to blot out the low hum of conversations and clinking of glassware just a couple dozen feet away.

Vil dug his fingers into the fabric over your hips.

“It does have its appeal, doesn’t it?” he hummed against your neck and you could feel your blood buzzing beneath his curling lips. “No one to see you, certainly. But everyone will surely know,” he drawled. “That’s the world of show business, I’m afraid. All subtle implications, people whispering about us under their breath.” His hands twisted, bunching up the edges of the crinkling satin. “I’m sure even Neige will hear, eventually.”

“Is that it?” you hissed, biting back a horribly, high pitched little squeak. “You’re still mad at what that reporter said?”

“Of course not,” Vil said, with all the cadence of a well-seasoned liar. “The gossip mongering of one, moronic pest is hardly a problem.” He leaned closer, pushing a leg forward to slot between your. “But I have eyes, darling. And I can see that little rat’s lingering far too long where they shouldn’t.”

You reached up to slap a hand over your mouth and bite into your palm to quiet whatever embarrassing nonsense you would have tried to reply with. Or, well, if you’d managed to reply at all.

“I know you’re anxious to get home, darling,” he droned against your collarbone. You could smell the fizzy remnants of champagne all in your nose. “But this is my party, after all. We’ll have to wait to call for a car for at least another hour,” he apologized, not sounding particularly sorry at all. “That said,” he continued, grinding harder, “if you don’t stop looking at my lips like that without doing anything about it, I might just have to take you right here against the wall.”

A pause, as he canted his head. A soft mess of pale bangs falling over his lidded eyes.

“And there is a very lovely private changing room with a lock just down the hall.”

“…okay,” you squeaked, and Vil grinned—pulling back to wrap an arm around your waist and lead you along. Gait steady and composed as always, and just the barest hint of the wine-warmed-boldness curling over his lips.

#4k Event #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #Vil x Reader #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #My Writing #Writing Prompts #Vil Schoenheit

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evanpetersmybf · 1 month

Text

All he asked for was you

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Tate loves you too much. He would do anything for you, to keep you by his side, to make you love him forever. He would cross any line to make you his, it doesn't matter how evil it is... But was it really worth it?

Genre: ANGST!! and some smut

Word count: 5,104

Warnings: Obsessive, stalkish and violent behavior, implicit toxic relationship; mentions of weapons, murder, mental health issues, family issues, school shooting; use of Y/N, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v. (i hope i'm not missing any...) NOT PROOFREAD !!

A/N: English isn't my first language!! Sorry if I have some mistakes and if Tate's a bit ooc (i tried to keep him in character as much as i could). I wasn't sure (and still not) if this is good but I spent days writing it, so I had to post it.

A small playlist with songs that inspired me for this: monster by meg and dia, pacify her by melanie martinez, all i want is you by rebzyyx, skyfall by adele, psycho by doko, paparazzi by lady gaga, dark red by steve lacy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate never believed in love, nor was he a romantic one.

In fact, he despised it. How could he even believe in that feeling when he never felt loved by his own mother? At least that’s what he pretended.

The blond always had the facade of a tough guy, although he couldn’t fool anyone. Constance knew well he was a sensitive boy. Probably the most crybaby ever to exist… And the most unstable one.

Now he was here. His chest going up and down, breathing shallow and fast. His eyes were darting around the room, looking for something or perhaps someone. Some silly tears were rolling down his cheeks while he anxiously fidgeted with a ring on his finger. The clock on the wall continued its tick-tack. The time kept running. His heart kept beating. It was getting late.

He refused to look at the wooden floor. He didn’t want to accept reality. If Tate did that, he would feel like the biggest monster on Earth.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t stay like this.

He had to do something real fast.

Today, 18:40

You were supposed to arrive at 19:00.

But he remained there, next to the corpse of his rival. A bloody ax beside the dead man’s bleeding head.

Whom he thought was his worst enemy, was someone really dear to you.

Well, Tate fervently believed this was something justified. He couldn’t stand that fucking asshole anymore! That scumbag needed to be put back in his place. And Tate only did that. Furthermore, he actually helped him. He took him away from this shitty world. It was a favor.

He had already killed his mother’s boyfriend, so why was he feeling guilty?

Maybe because his victim was special to you. Because his death would hurt you. And Langdon swore to God he would never let anybody or anything hurt you, including himself.

He loved you.

He wanted to be the one to hold your hand forever.

Tate snapped back to the present and frowned. He picked up the weapon, putting it in his backpack. He didn’t even mind cleaning it. Then, he proceeded to knelt right next to the lifeless dude and cleaned the blood surrounding his body; afterwards, he dragged him to the basement and…

19:00

A knock on the door.

You arrived.

“DAMN IT!”

He left his dead foe lying limp on the cold basement ground and quickly ran upstairs, straight to his room. He also left the backpack there.

Tate spent the last twenty minutes cleaning the mess he made in the living room after he atrociously smashed your friend’s head, forgetting that had poor time to get ready.

He desperately looked for clean clothes, scrambling the entire closet in search of fresh garments while he cussed at himself, at his mother, at that freaking boy, at the entire world but you.

Finally he found some jeans and a striped shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror after changing and cleaned the tiny drops of blood that stayed on his face and hands. He never realized he left the bloody clothing on the bed.

Another knock.

19:07

Tate opened the door, immediately throwing himself at you and giving you one of the warmest hugs. His demeanor with you was completely different; you were the only creature capable of changing his fucked up mind into something more beautiful, more peaceful. The issue was that it only happened when he was with you, otherwise he would be aggressive and rude as usual.

You got the best of him.

“Missed you so fuckin’ much, babe…” Voice muffled since his face was buried in the crook of your neck. Tate always did the same thing; clinging onto you like a small koala would.

“Heh, me too, hun!” You spoke with the same soothing voice he adored. Tate giggled and placed a tender kiss on your jawline, then another, and another, and another.

Soon enough, he was peppering kisses all over your neck, making you moan softly. Oh those sounds. He could hear you melting under his touch, his embrace, for the rest of eternity.

He loved making you squirm, making you laugh, making you feel loved.

He was way too sweet.

Only if you knew.

Four weeks before today…

Tate has always had the bad habit of stalking you. Yeah… He wasn’t proud of it. But can you blame him? He’s constantly afraid of you leaving him. He wanted to make sure you never did so… Otherwise he would die. Literally.

Don’t ask how he would die. You already know the answer.

You two were supposed to have a date, albeit you had to cancel your meeting.

And that, of course, made him overthink. It didn’t matter how many times you told him you were going to study; he felt betrayed, as if you were rejecting him. And Tate hated and feared rejection to the bone.

“Pretty please? Please, Y/N! I don’t wanna go home early, mom’s gonna be there and-and–”

“Tate, I can’t skip this. I have like, a test every day next week and I must study. I don’t wanna fail. Please, sweetie. I promise I’ll make it up to ya’, mhm?”

He rolled his eyes and whined, almost throwing a tantrum. He didn’t try to manipulate you on purpose. It came out naturally. “But I need you, Y/N! Why do you always do the same, huh? Am I not that important? Don’t you love me any longer?”

His childish crying continued for a couple of minutes, until it stopped and the blond agreed a deal with you.

You thought he was calm now, but no. How naive.

You went to the library to study as you said… Without noticing he followed you.

Quietly, he got into that maze of books after you and hid behind some shelves.

Tate noticed you sat on an empty table. Thank God. Oh?

Who. Is. He.

A man Tate didn’t know sat next to you. Really close. Too close for Tate’s liking. He tried to think he was a stranger, that he wasn’t going to talk to you… He was wrong.

He clenched his hands into a ball when he saw that idiot talking to you, and the worst part was that you followed suit. It seemed you two were friends or something.

How DARE YOU talk to another man? No, how dare you talk to another HUMAN BEING!?

Tate was insecure 24/7.

If you weren’t there, Tate was falling apart. It was simple.

No Y/N, no happy Tate. Was it too hard to understand?

Three weeks before today…

It was Friday. Tate was impatiently waiting for you outside the campus, hanging a small bouquet of flowers he picked up.

Once he spotted you coming out from the building, he waved his hand and embraced you tightly once you were in front of him. He gave you the adorable present.

“Tate!”

“How did you do? Did you pass your tests? Don’t tell me, I’m sure you did.” Said, grinning from ear to ear. He was away from you for an entire week. How did he survive? He didn’t know, but he was glad to have you with him again. “Tell me about your life in the last days, baby. Please? I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!”

There he was, the one and only drama queen Tate Langdon.

You talked about the tests, about how the teachers were being a pain in the ass (which clearly triggered in him the intense desire of hurting them because they stressed you), and… About a guy. The same guy from the library, with whom you spent the entire last week studying. He couldn’t stand it. He saw him as a threat to your relationship, especially since he was an old friend that you met many years ago.

As the days went by, you gave him more reasons to hate that jerk. Why? Well of course because you spent hours at the library doing homework or studying with him. Or even hanging out with him and other people.

In reality, you went out with him to a museum just once, and then skating with other colleagues. Nothing compared to the time you spent with Tate; in a week, you would hang out with him almost daily, and if you were way too busy, he would go to your place and spend the night there. He was so attached to you to the point he had to see you at least once a day. And that’s why he was so jealous of your friend. Tate couldn’t stand the idea of you sharing your life with someone else who wasn’t him or your family… And he also got jealous of them, but he was handling it.

Two weeks before today.

After Tate’s pleas, you decided to introduce your friend to him.

Probably a big mistake.

The date was really awkward; your friend tried being nice, and Tate acted surprisingly kind. Of course it was odd; usually, he despised all of your friends and treated them badly, yet this time was different. You were stunned, however, you tried to ignore it and instead got happy as he finally accepted a random person as your buddy.

Still and all, he hated that moron. It didn’t matter how much he tried liking your pal, he was jealous of him. He was getting on his nerves. He denied the fact that you had more love for other people that wasn’t him. Tate desired being your only one. Your number one. Your entire world. Because that’s what you were for him. And he was willing to do whatever to keep you with him.

Tate exchanged numbers with him and meticulously plotted a plan to ascertain he would never talk to you ever again. At first, it came out as a simple “I’m gonna scare the shit outta him”, nonetheless, it turned into a darker idea, very likely involving physical violence.

One week before today…

The last few days, Tate won Peter’s trust. Ah yes. That’s your friend's name. You were glad that he finally opened his warm heart and began to meet more people besides you.

You thought he needed a friend, an empathetic person who could support the blond when you weren’t available, that way he would feel less lonely and depressed.

They went to the cinema, to the arcade, even to a music store. Everything was going according to what he planned.

Eventually, he invited Peter to his place to play chess and other board games on a Sunday afternoon, before you arrived and had a date with Tate due to your anniversary.

Today, 16:00

Peter and Tate were eating pizza and having a great noon, talking about their lives and random stuff, like school and music. They both enjoyed Nirvana, and since Peter played the guitar, he agreed on teaching your boy how to.

If it weren’t for Tate’s twisted mind, they would’ve been best friends.

The guitarist wasn’t a bad guy. He was a great buddy that really appreciated you and the crybaby, but Langdon had something else in mind.

18:00

The men watched a movie. Tate didn’t even know its name; in fact, he didn’t even pay attention to it. Instead, he was focused on his next actions, plotting them carefully.

“Crap, mom’s gonna arrive soon…” Tate mumbled with annoyance, biting his nails and tapping his foot on the floor. He was lying. You were going to arrive, not Constance.

“Damn, bro. Well, I don’t have a problem. I wanna meet her.”

“Huh? No no no, you shouldn’t. That bitch is crazy.”

Peter scoffed, disagreeing with Tate’s rude manner to call his own momma.

“Hey, you shouldn’t talk like that. I bet she loves you!”

That pissed him off. “You don’t know anything, Peter. Your family is different. Your life’s different. You won’t understand!” He yelled, standing up from the couch and now pacing around the room, trying to keep it calm.

“Dude, calm down!

“NO! I fucking won’t!”

The screaming continued for a while. Tate revealed his unstable and crystal self. Even something so insignificant could drive him to the edge, like what happened today. That definitely surprised the other one, who used to think that Tate was a sweet boy. “I dunno why Y/N is dating you.”

“What did you say?” Tate abruptly stopped pacing.

“Y/N. Y/N doesn’t deserve you.”

“WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT!?” He pounced on Peter, gripping his neck with one rough hand, applying enough pressure on the sides to stop the blood circulation in his carotids and make him lose consciousness.

Before passing out, Peter, getting pale, managed to croak out: “Because she deserves better…”

Soon enough, he fainted, giving Tate minutes to think about what else to do.

Your boyfriend wasn’t planning on murdering Peter today. No, he didn’t have time. He also was supposed to meet you.. But this was the perfect excuse! And not only that; he indirectly admitted he was in love with you! Or that’s what Tate interpreted with his delusional point of view.

Peter didn’t feel anything romantic for you, he was just worried Tate might be too unhinged to be your partner.

Thus, he went to his room and grabbed his backpack. Then, went to the garden shed and picked up the ax that belonged to his father, and a bottle of lye.

He had to get the job done quickly, nevertheless, he lost track of time.

18:30

Tate came back to the living room, just to notice that Peter wasn’t there anymore.

“FUCK IT!” Langdon got nervous. What if he escaped? What if he told you that Tate was crazy? He couldn’t allow this, not at all.

Thankfully, or maybe not, Tate found Peter crawling towards the front door, the poor dude still feeling dizzy after being choked.

Tate didn’t have any mercy.

“Where do you think you’re going, lil’ piece of shit!?”

18:38

Tate finally did it. He brutally murdered Peter, smashing his head several times with the ax.

He got rid of that little issue. He took him to somewhere clean.

Once he assured the other man wasn’t breathing, he dropped the weapon on the floor, making a loud metallic thud.

19:10

Tate was pinning you down on the couch, the same couch where your dead friend was sitting just an hour ago.

His hands were traveling all along your body, tracing sweet patterns on your skin.

Eventually, his fingers were clumsily pulling down your panties, not minding to take off your skirt. “Did you bring this for easy access, baby?” Tate chuckled and buried his face between your legs, holding your thighs in place; his lips plastered messy kisses over the warm flesh, biting it and leaving tiny marks after sucking.

Your reaction was alluring to him; he enjoyed listening to your pleas, to your whimpers. If it was for him, he would spend the entire day making you cum over and over again.

He finally got rid of your underwear, tossing it aside. Without further ado, the boy spread your folds with his large digits, and continued to lick your throbbing wet cunt.

“So fucking pretty… So wet for me, huh?”

His tongue lapped your small clit two or three times, then, traced a zigzag and circles on the sensitive nub. While he devoured you, he inserted his middle and ring finger, pumping them in and out of your cute hole, curling them and hitting the right spot to make you feel butterflies.

Tate could feel his arousal growing; his erection being restrained by the tight fabric of his jeans. He was desperate, yeah. But he always put you in the first place, and that included pleasuring you before him.

After a while, he replaced his fingers with his tongue, fucking your pussy with the agile muscle and now rubbing your clit with his thumb, applying pressure that sent electric waves through your body. He stopped using his tongue on you and instead looked at that stunning face of yours. He was delighted with your flushed cheeks, with every single gesture you did, with the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He wanted to take a picture of you to remember this moment forever.

His thumb increased the pace, while his free hand lifted up your blouse and tried to undo your bra. He couldn’t. You giggled when he groaned in frustration; he was too horny to think straight and that’s why you helped him to take off the garment.

Tate sighed and after that awkward and funny moment, he kept rubbing your bud, using your own juices and his saliva as a lubricant, intensifying the sensation. His left pinched and pulled your nipple, making you gasp and twitch beneath him, whilst his mouth abused your other one, greedily sucking on it.

“Tate, ‘m gonna cum! I-”

Tate cut you off by kissing you harshly; his tongue invading your warm mouth, exploring it and then nibbling your bottom lip until it bleeded. He licked the tiny drops of blood, savoring the metallic taste of it.

Unable to hold on any longer, you reached your orgasm, coming undone while Tate kept caressing your pussy, decreasing the velocity while you finally calmed down.

He left you panting; your heart beating so fast just like his.

You tried to sit up on the couch, breathing deep for more air, but the blond prevented you from going away.

“Where do you think you’re doing? We’re not done yet, you’re gonna cum again!”

Tate carried you bridal style and went upstairs straight to his bedroom. He threw you on the bed.

Without stopping looking at you, he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his jeans along the boxers; his dick already erect and throbbing, the veins thick and the tip leaking precum.

Using the clear liquid as lube, he stroked his shaft for a while, jerking off to the sight of you. He groaned and whimpered, closing his eyes as his hand pumped himself.

One of your hands went to your breasts, massaging them softly as your right went down between your legs, slowly teasing your womanhood and coating your index finger with your arousal, using it to rub your aching bundle of nerves.

Tate’s dark room was now filled with both of your moans; Tate calling your name several times and you begging him to fuck you.

He couldn’t stand this anymore. He NEEDED to be inside you, to feel your warmth enveloping him. “On all fours. Now.” You immediately obeyed, feeling as eager as him.

“Look at me, mhm?” He positioned behind you and rubbed the tip against your wet folds, teasing you for a bit. Afterwards, he slowly entered his cock inside your slit, moving it slowly at first. His thumb went to your clitoris, toying with it just like minutes before. He picked up the pace and fucked you fast and hard; his cockhead brushing your cervix. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Tate pulled your head towards him, still with the deep thrusting. “Fuck, Y/N! You’re so pretty… So fucking precious, so fucking mine!” Moaned against your ear, voice raspy and agitated.

Panting, you stopped looking at him and instead looked to the bed. Why? Who knows, but you did it. And you saw Tate’s dirty clothes. Dirty with blood. A lot of blood.

You froze. Maybe it was red paint?

“U-uh, Tate?” You muttered, feeling already bewildered by the sight. You tried not to jump into conclusions, although you knew Tate and he has always been… Secretive.. And aggressive, of course.

After your boyfriend heard your shaky whisper, he stopped moving, even if he wanted to keep going. “Hm?”

“What’s this?” Tate sighed and pulled out from you, not understanding what you meant.

“What’s what?”

Without saying anything else to him, you grabbed the shirt and touched the weird stain. It was still fresh. You took your fingers to your mouth to taste it; and the metallic tang was too obvious. “Tate, what the fuck is this!?”

You threw it at him. Freaked out, you stood up and picked up your clothes, putting them on again, all meanwhile Tate connected the dots and realized he was probably going to get caught.

“Wait, Y/N! It’s not what it looks like, I swear, damn it!” He yelled and grabbed your arm, not wanting you to leave like this. He had to save his reputation, he couldn’t let you think bad of him even if you had all the right. Because, why the fuck the fabric was soaked in blood?

“Then what is it, Tate? WHY DOES IT HAVE SO MUCH BLOOD!?”

“CALM DOWN, PLEASE!”

You attempted to get away from his grip, struggling with him until, somehow, you managed to do so. However, you tripped with his dirty shoes and fell, realizing they were also stained with the red liquid. “Tate, what…? Why? What is this?”

“Nothing, I swear!” He didn’t have any excuses. Saying it was paint would’ve been lame. You were too smart and he knew lying wasn’t a good choice.

Feeling overwhelmed with the matter, you went downstairs, walking as fast as you could. Passing through the living room, a very familiar bag caught your eye. It was definitely Peter’s. You decided to grab it and realized it had his phone inside. Something was off.

Tate was standing behind you; fists clenched and heart beating like crazy. He tried to approach you, still thinking about what to do or what to say.

“Tate… What is this doing here? Peter’s here?”

“Huh? Yeah… He— He came earlier and had to go soon, he left this accidentally, yup…” You could see him fidgeting with that ring on his finger, again.

“Bullshit!”

Tate scowled and grabbed your chin, making you look at his dark orbs. “Tell me, Y/N, do you trust me or not, huh? Look me in the eyes and say you don’t!”

The struggle continued for what seemed eternity. You trying to run away from the house and he trying to make you stay. “Please, Y/N, just listen to me!”

“You did something to him, right? I know him, Tate! He would NEVER leave his phone like this! Is this a joke?”

“Why do you care so much about that asshole!? What has he done for you!? Tell me!”

“Oh my, you’re jealous! I knew it! All that crap about being his friend was a lie, right? Tate, you’re being delusional! I can have friends, I can hang out with whoever I want, whether you like it or not!”

Tate pressed your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, squeezing the flesh with his veiny, big hand, pressing it tightly enough to leave the mark of his long digits on it.

“You can’t! You’re mine. Only mine. Since the day you were born you were meant to be mine. Not his, not anybody, just me.”

“Tate… We should end this…” You thought this was the best for both. Being in a relationship with him was draining; always being careful to not hurt him, make him jealous or mad. He was such a sensitive boy that always took everything too personally. He felt everything a little too much.

Since the beginning you knew he was unstable and that he had many issues, but you tried to see beyond his sick mind, you tried to understand him despite being so different.

Tate felt so safe with you. You were the only person who understood him, or at least made attempts to.

He felt rejected by the entire society, even by his own mother, until he met you and he had a minimum spark of hope that the world didn’t suck that much.

That’s why he clung to you. That’s why you were his everything. He would lose his mind if you leave him.

He felt like dying when he heard you wanted to finish the relationship.

He couldn’t breathe.

Some tears were now falling to the floor, his eyes puffy and an ugly frown on his face. His mouth twisted as he sobbed loudly, tugging the hem of your shirt while he begged you to stay. He was crying like a newborn, like a baby who had to be apart from his mother for a second.

“No no no no, you can’t do this to me!” He whimpered, his speech cracking as he tried to hold you close whilst you were stepping back. You were slipping through his fingers, you were leaving him.

“Tate, if something happened to Peter, I will never forgive you! Can’t you see you’re hurting me?”

Tate swore he would never hurt you, nor let anyone. But here he was, finally snapping out of it and seeing the cruel truth.

“You’ve been hurting me the whole time, Tate! I tried to understand you, I really did, I tried to help you, to save you from yourself! But it’s impossible. I’m losing myself here with you, I don’t even know who I am anymore! You don’t want help, do you? ‘Cause it doesn’t matter what I do, you’re never satisfied! You suffocate me!”

All those words were like daggers penetrating his skin, touching his nerves and making him die of pain. You were tearing him apart, just the way he was destroying you.

He finally let go of you, feeling a tornado of emotions. Tate felt depressed, mad, resentful, like he was going crazy. Though, he knew he had to leave if that’s what you wanted. He couldn’t bring himself to break another promise.

Thereby, he confessed his crimes to you. He explained he killed his mom’s partner a few days ago, and that now he had killed your friend. Why? He was jealous, he was scared you’d left him. You did it before you discovered the cruel reality, anyways. That’s why he told you. Because he couldn’t lose anything else.

The situation was utterly disgusting. Tate was sick. He murdered an innocent man and then proceeded to fuck you, as it was the maximum test of love, as if his life meant nothing.

You knew he wasn’t what people often considered “normal”. But this was definitely more than just being a “weirdo”. Tate needed psychiatric help… And being arrested, of course.

“You make me wanna puke, Tate! You’re the evil!”

Without hesitating, you left Tate behind, running as fast as you could from that living hell.

You just wanted to cry, curl up into a ball and wake up from this nightmare. You wished it was merely a bad dream.

Tomorrow morning, you’d go to the police, but for now you needed to sleep.

Monday morning, 11:05

You couldn’t sleep all night. You spent hours thinking about everything, about how this looked like a cruel joke to you. Eventually, you fell asleep at 4AM, and didn’t wake up at what seemed almost midday.

An intense sound of police sirens woke you from your slumber. Startled by the loud noise, you rubbed your eyes and went to the window, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Police cars and SWAT vans were going in a specific direction… Towards Tate’s street. It couldn’t be, right?

Did his mother find the corpse? Or perhaps something else?

You looked at the clock, realizing it was late and you had to go to class.

08:00

After the most painful night of his life, Tate decided today everything would be over.

He had to cleanse the world… To take people to somewhere else, to some place full of peace away from the piss and the vomit that runs down the streets.

He was doing this not only because of your breakup, but also because of many other reasons. Your split up was the straw that broke the camel and drove him to the edge.

10:40

After shooting the school, Tate left the place, looking unfazed about what he just did. He was unhinged.

He peacefully got into his place, went to his room and stayed there for some minutes.

The blond sat on the edge of the bed, leaving the gun right next to him and stared at nothing. His gaze was empty, but also there were some tears threatening to spill.

His mind was a whirlwind. Some part of him was satisfied, but the other was confused, wondering what was he thinking, what had he done?

What would you think of him now? Were you even there? Did he kill you too and he didn’t even notice?

In the end, he recognized he indeed was the evil you said. Damn it. You were right, again, as ever.

Tate wanted to hear your voice, to comfort him, to hear you saying everything was okay. That he’d be okay. He desired to hear “I love you” from you once more.

11:15

You went downstairs to find your family apparently mourning you.

They thought you were at school when the shooting happened. They believed you were gone, but here you were.

Eventually, they explained to you what happened.

The first thing that popped into your mind was Tate’s wellbeing, still unaware that he was the culprit. You were afraid something terrible could’ve happened to him, you were regretting your last words to him, but you also had to get him prisoner.

Your heart dropped when they explained to you he was the shooter.

No, it couldn’t be possible.

It was possible. After all, he had already killed two men.

Even if you despise what he did, some part of you still longed for him, still was in love with his once kind heart.

A terrifying feeling of dread filled your body, making you feel numb, as if none of this was real…

11:25

After running to Tate’s house and seeing it surrounded by the cops and the SWAT team, everything stopped. Constance’s distressed cries and pleas were heard from outside, followed suit by the sound of bullets. It was over now.

Tate was certainly a troubled individual who dedicated his entire life to searching for something, to feel something, to feel loved.

All he asked for was love, to be loved, to love. All he wanted was you.

But at the same time, your love led him to an never-ending obsession that ultimately broke both of you.

He became your biggest regret.

All he feared, all his nightmares came true. Everything he was so afraid of was him and only himself.

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snowyquokka · 2 months

Note

Hiiii how are you

I have e a request for han or seungmin that their enemies and they have to go to a party that their friends are going to and the reader gets really drunk so they help them and they both confess to liking each other and it's just really fluffy

I hope I explained that the right way

Ps love your work

Lots of love A<3

BUTTERFLIES

frat boy han jisung x fem reader

cw: mature themes MDNI, mentions of sex, alcohol consumption (both above age), swearing, angst EVEN THOUGH IT WAS SUPPOSED TO ONLY BE FLUFF, second chance lovers, college au, blah blah blah

wc: 1.2k

a.n - i apologize for this taking me so long but i really wanted to get it right and do the prompt justice. i absolutely loved writing this and i appreciate the request !! (thank you ina for letting me blow up your dms over this <3)

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

“You are so fucking lucky I love you,” you mutter as you walk into a frat party with your best friend, Mina. She wouldn’t stop pestering you about ‘coming out of your shell’ and ‘loosening up.’

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll thank me later, babe. And don’t worry, I’m the DD tonight. Have fun, seriously.” she smiles. You’d be lying if you said that deep down - very deep, like in the abyss of your soul - you weren’t grateful for her making you leave your room, where she thought you’d live forever if she didn’t have a say.

“Oo, lookie!” Mina exclaims as she points out two guys leaning against the kitchen island. Lee Minho and you’ve gotta be kidding me,

“Mina, no. You’ve got me fifty shades of fucked up if you think I’m gonna go talk to Han,” you make a face at the bitter taste of his name.

“You haven’t even spoken to him in what,” she counts on her fingers, “…8 months?

“Mina, I don’t think getting coffee at the same shop counts as talking.” you roll your eyes, “He’s a complete dickhead who has absolutely no consideration for others,” Mina shrugs and grabs your arm before dragging you over towards the two men despite your protests.

You immediately catch Jisung’s attention, watching as a small smirk tugs on his lips.

“Ah, Mina! How are you?” Minho beams at your best friend.

While they get caught up in their conversation you look around and spot a tray of Jell-O shots sitting on the counter unattended. Shrugging your shoulders, you pick one up and down it with zero hesitation.

Without even registering it, you consume three in less than two minutes. At least you’re enjoying yourself, right?

“I’d be careful if I were you, nabi.” You cringe at the nickname as Jisung’s voice cuts through the music playing in the background. You turn around to face him with a groan.

“I’m not in the mood, Han.” you grab another shot.

“Ouch. Back to last names, are we?” Jisung clutches his chest in mock pain, earning an eye roll from you. You glance over at Mina - or rather, where she was standing five minutes ago.

“Where’d they go?” You nod towards the now empty space.

“Probably going to fuck,” he shrugs, “Who knows?”

You huff and cross your arms over your chest.

“Oh come on, nabi. You can’t avoid me forever.” Your cheeks redden in annoyance.

“I can and I will actually. Also, stop calling me that.”

He scoffs as you walk away with yet another shot in your hand.

After a few moments of hesitation, he reluctantly follows you. “Wait. Can we ta-“

Jisung cuts himself off at the sight of you dancing with some guy from his fraternity, his hands on your hips as you sway them to the beat. Something in Jisung’s chest twists and a pit forms in his stomach. Shaking his head and pushing down his feelings, he turns to walk away.

Not worth it, Ji.

That is until he hears your laugh. Your sweet, gentle, angelic laugh. Sparked by someone who looks like they’d forget your name before he even gets what he wants from you.

Fuck. All. That.

Jisung downs the rest of his beer and stalks towards the two of you.

“Get your fucking hands off my girl.” he glares at the other man.

Jisung ignores him and snatches your wrist and drags you away, careful not to let you fall.

“J - Han get off of me,” you sputter as you attempt to set yourself free as he guides you upstairs to a vacant bedroom.

“I am not yours, asshole.” you wipe your palms down your dress in order to try to make it stretch a little more past your thighs. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung who has to force himself to tear his eyes away from your curves. Curves that he’s dreamt of holding underneath his fingertips for years.

“Why won’t you have one conversation with me? You’re acting like we weren’t inseparable two years ago,” Jisung runs a hand through his already disheveled hair. He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol giving him confidence or if it’s his physical need to be as close as he can to you.

“You left, what did you expect to happen?” you let out once your mind starts to uncloud.

Jisung advances towards you, the beat of the music downstairs matching your racing pulse. With each step he takes, your heart knots tighter and tighter. Once he reaches you he places his hand on the wall beside you, caging you in.

Your senses heighten and the intensity of his gaze forces you to shrink yet you carry on, “You didn’t even care about what I had to say about it. In fact, I didn’t even know you were going until three hours before your flight took off.”

Your words are like a knife to his abdomen.

He searches your eyes for something - anything - other than pain.

Nothing.

The knife twists in his gut.

You don’t realize you’re crying until Jisung’s hand comes up to brush your tears off of your cheeks.

“I’ve hated myself everyday for the past two years, nabi. I thought of coming back to you but..” he trails off.

“Ji, don’t do this to me. I can’t. Please.” your voice shakes more than you would like it to as you try to warrant off more tears. You’ve always been an emotional drunk, but this? This is next level.

“You know, the moment I found out where you were going to college I immediately applied there? And then I applied to every college in the area, just in case I didn’t get accepted,” his voice drops to a mere whisper, “I did it because I wanted to fix us. I want to fix us.”

Your mouth falls slightly agape as you attempt to process the absolute bomb he just threw at you,

“It would’ve been easier if I hadn’t..” you cut off and wipe your mascara-stained cheeks, tilting your head back against the wall and closing your eyes. You’re too afraid to acknowledge the truth.

You’ve always been too afraid.

Though, you aren’t very sure what the truth is, exactly.

Jisung leans in and speaks softly into your ear, “I fell in love, too.”

Your eyes flutter open to see him nose-to-nose with you.

Warmth that has nothing to do with the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed spreads throughout you, head to toe, and something velvety skates along your soul.

“Butterflies,” you mumble unwittingly.

Jisung smiles softly and leans his forehead against yours.

“Can you find somewhere in that big, beautiful heart for me?” he looks down and threads his fingers with yours.

“No need,” you smile, “it was all yours to begin with.”

tags: @godslino @skzstarnet @anakin-sweetheart

divider: @chaeneuu

#snowyquokka #han jisung #han jisung x reader #skz han #stray kids #skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz reader insert #skz reactions #skz angst #skzstarnet

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souryoong · 1 year

Text

good for you | myg (18+)

Pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x f!reader

Genre: smut!! (18+ readers only pls), established relationship

Word Count: 2,278

Summary: you've been teasing your boyfriend over text while he's been away in paris for business, and he comes home early to teach you a lesson.

Warnings: mentions of sexting, cunnilingus, fingering, making out, clitoral stimulation, tongue kissing, praise kink, edging, reader gets teary, orgasm denial, hitting it from the back, creampie (god I still hate that word!!). also showering together is henced because after all, they are a couple.

Authors Note: hi guys!!! welcome to my own version of march madness (some watch basketball, I write smut. jk I do like basketball too.) I said it before, but just in case you didn't hear, I am celebrating yoongi's bday as well as my own this month by posting my favorite pisces 2 (or 3? its the aries in me to be a menace) times this month. enjoy the smut and happy birthday to my twin flame, yoongi!!

______________________________________________

Yoongi’s patience with you seemed to always be never ending. Nothing that you did ever seemed to cross the line, and when it did, you knew.

Well, today was one of those days.

Yoongi had been in Paris for work for a few days, and with the time difference, you got bored at night and stayed up late, sending him pictures and videos of yourself. They started off with sending him cute outfits that you bought, and then lingerie. However, he stopped responding when you sent him a video of yourself in the bathtub, making you wonder if you might have taken things a little too far. You didn’t want to interrupt him if he was dealing with important business.

Feeling kind of panicky and unsure what Yoongi was thinking, you eventually went to bed, hoping he would somehow not see it, or completely forget about it.

In the morning, you woke up to a text from Yoongi.

Yoongi: You like teasing me like that don’t you, distracting me from work?

You knew he wasn’t actually mad, he probably did enjoy what you were sending him, but maybe it was a bad time.

You thought for a second, and sent a quick text back to him.

You: Just thinking about you, baby.

Hoping that smoothed things over, you went on with your day. Since the time difference, you weren’t expecting to hear from Yoongi until later on in the night.

Later on, when you were winding down for the night, changing into your pajamas, your boss at work called a zoom meeting, discussing some business endeavors.

Since you were very much not modest — your pajamas were a pair of underwear and a big t shirt, your camera was turned off so no one could see you.

The meeting felt like it was going on for forever, you had one of your AirPods in even though sometimes you felt like you probably weren’t even paying attention. The good thing was is that you probably didn’t have to talk.

You pulled your knees in towards your chest in your chair at your desk, taking a drink from your glass that was next to your computer mouse. Suddenly, you heard a knock, but brushed it off as one of your coworkers making noise. You didn’t look away from your computer screen.

A few seconds later, there was another knock that was slightly louder than before; making you realize it was in the room and not coming from the computer. You looked around the room and was almost in disbelief when you saw Yoongi leaning against the doorway, one of his hands in his pocket of his tan colored suit.

“Yoongi?” You questioned him quickly. “I thought you wouldn’t be home until tomorrow.”

Yoongi stepped towards you. “My manager told me there was an earlier flight, so I left right after my event; hence why I’m so dressed up.”

“Yeah, you look so sexy.” You complimented him as he walked behind you. “What made you decide to leave early?”

That was a stupid question.

“Oh did someone suddenly forget what she did to me?” Yoongi’s large hands were on your shoulders.

You were silent, looking at your computer.

“Hey sweetheart. That was a question.” Yoongi leaned down, his low voice in your ear.

“I forgot about it.” You responded, reaching to rest one of your hands onto his.

“I’m not mad. You can send me whatever you want; you know that.” Yoongi brushed a piece of hair away from his face. “But to send me a video of you in the bathtub, while I’m sitting at a meeting? I had to cover my lap like I’m a goddamn teenager.”

You smirked to yourself at his reaction, not realizing he wasn’t done talking.

“Now I’m in the mood to edge you until you cry. Make you learn your lesson.”

You bit down on your bottom lip. Fuck. You knew Yoongi meant it when he said things like that.

“Yoongi, I —" You started to speak, but you were cut off.

“Hey, looks like someone has a meeting to listen to, right?” You wondered how long he was standing there earlier as he planted a few kisses along your neck, making you close your eyes. He was for sure pushing your buttons as you hummed in response.

“How was Paris?” You tried to distract your mind, at this point you weren’t even paying attention to your meeting.

“It was nice. I think you’d like it. Next time you should go with me.” One of his hands was now on your inner thigh, and you knew for sure that you were probably soaking your panties.

“I think —“ Your words were cut off when Yoongi’s fingers brushed against your clothed clit, making you swallow hard.

He moved one of your legs to rest on top of the desk, giving himself full view of your panties that were in fact soaked.

“Already worked up for me?” It was a stupid question to ask; you always were.

“Yoongi.” You spoke, a neediness in your voice.

He moved your chair back, somewhat startling you. Then he was hovering over you; his face close to yours. He gave you a quick kiss, making your heart flutter.

He slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties. “Lift your hips.” Yoongi suddenly spoke, and you did.

Yoongi pulled down your panties, swearing to himself when he saw how wet you were. Stuffing them in his suit pocket, he turned your chair and got on his knees in front of you.

“Fuck.” Yoongi muttered to himself, putting his hands on your thighs. You felt like you were holding your breath. Trying to focus on your computer screen, but also trying to brace yourself for Yoongi’s tongue or fingers.

Yoongi barely touched your clit with his thumb; making you jump. He pressed harder, moving in slow circles.

You let out a sigh, practically feeling your arousal dripping out of you at this point. Yoongi paused for a second, pulling your hips towards himself so that you were sort of laying back in your chair; and more comfortable. Just as you looked away from Yoongi, you felt him push his middle and ring finger inside of you, pressing against your front wall hard.

You cried out his name, leaning your head back.

“You’re so fucking wet.” Yoongi grunted. “Fuck.” He was right, you could hear the squelching noises from his fingers going in and out of you.

Yoongi didn’t say anything before leaning down and sucking your clit into his mouth; forming a rhythm with the way his fingers were moving in and out of you.

Your body shuddered when his fingers brushed against your sweet spot; and you knew you weren’t going to last long if he kept going like this.

One of your hands was in his long, dark hair; trying to hold him there. You could feel yourself getting close, hanging on the edge of your orgasm.

Until suddenly, Yoongi stopped.

“Yoongi!” You were so frustrated, panting. “What the fuck?”

“Baby.” Yoongi spoke lowly, kissing your inner thigh. “Did I say that you could cum?”

“No.” You sighed, looking towards your computer screen.

“Be good for me.” Yoongi glanced up at you, giving you a look that gave you chills and reminded you that you were practically naked in your home office, while he was still fully clothed.

He suddenly stood up in front of you, removing his tan suit jacket; and then throwing it off to the floor. Yoongi leaned in close, grabbing your jaw and giving you a deep kiss; making you taste your own arousal.

“Can you do that for me?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” You answered, even though it didn’t sound very promising. “But Yoongi, I think I might have to talk in this.”

“Then you can talk.” Yoongi pressed three of his fingers against your clit, then in a half of a second they were inside of you again.

Yoongi was going way harder than before; fucking you with his fingers. He stood up, trying to get better leverage. You felt his fingers bump your sweet spot, making you grab onto him; practically begging him not to stop.

“Yoongi, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” Your voice was a whine as your walls were clenching his fingers.

On the brink of your second orgasm, you could hear the squelching noise coming from between your legs; realizing that you were probably gushing at this point.

“Yoongi.” You whined, pulling him in for a kiss.

You felt his fingers leave you again, making you let out a sob of a moan against his mouth. At this point you wanted to cry. You wished that your stupid meeting was over and Yoongi was pounding you into your mattress.

“Yoongi, I don’t know if I can take it anymore.” Your voice was shaky as you exhaled.

“I think you can handle more.” Yoongi answered you. He was right, you always liked to push yourself until you found your limit.

You let out a whine when you felt his fingers teasing your entrance again. “Yoongi, please.”

In what seemed like perfect timing; you heard everyone in your meeting saying their goodbyes and wrapping up.

“Alright have a good night everyone, see you Monday morning.”

You watched Yoongi in front of you undoing his belt, and throw it onto the floor with a thud. You quickly unmuted yourself in the meeting to say good bye, then left.

You took out the one AirPod you had in your right ear just in time for Yoongi to grab your chin with one of his hands, kissing you with such a force you thought he’d bruise you.

You grabbed onto his wrist when he simultaneously slipped his tongue into your mouth as his fingers started rubbing your now over sensitive clit.

Yoongi let out a moan into your mouth, making your core clench around nothing.

You broke away from the kiss, his face was still close to yours. Practically aching for him, you whined. “Yoongi, please.”

Swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, Yoongi stood back up, and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Go to the couch. With your back towards me.”

As Yoongi’s shirt was discarded onto the floor, you got up out of your chair; your legs feeling like they didn’t belong to yourself at first. The couch was only a few steps away from your chair at your desk.

You put your knees onto the seat of the couch, then leaned your upper body onto the back rest. Never thinking you’d be having sex in your office; you were glad that this couch was surprisingly roomy.

Hearing movement and fabric rustling, you could only assume that Yoongi’s pants were now off. He moved his hand along the small of your back, pushing your t shirt up to expose more of your body to him.

“Fuck.” Yoongi swore as you arched your back, getting ready for him. “Look at you.”

You let out a moan when you felt his cock head against your entrance, and you moved, trying to fuck yourself onto him.

Yoongi grabbed a hold of your hips, keeping you still he pushed himself inside of you; bottoming out in one thrust.

“Fuck!” You let out a moan, your mouth falling open.

Yoongi sucked in a harsh breath. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

You put your knees further apart on the couch in attempts to feel him a little deeper.

“Yoongi, fuck.” You slightly turned, grabbing onto his wrist as he held onto you. “Don’t stop.”

You felt him nudge your g-spot, making your walls abruptly clench around him. You could tell that your orgasm was somewhat close.

Suddenly Yoongi pulled you up so your back was against his chest; the new angle making you feel him so deep it was like he was in your stomach.

Your eyes were watering as you still clutch onto him. “Fuck, Yoongi I’m so close.” Leaning back into him, he planted a few kisses along your shoulder and neck.

Yoongi reached between hour legs with one hand and started to rub your clit, and your legs started to shake underneath you.

Your eyes were getting teary as Yoongi’s pace never faltered. “Yoongi, please.” Your voice was a whine. “Let me cum.”

“Yeah, you wanna cum?” Yoongi’s voice was breathy against your neck.

“Please.” You leaned into him, one of your hands making its way to his dark hair as you craned your neck to kiss him. “Tell me I’m a good girl.”

Yoongi grunted, starting to fuck into you so hard that you fell forwards back onto the couch. “My good girl.” It was almost as if he was enunciating the words with his thrusts.

“Oh god.” The words left your mouth like a sob as your orgasm crashed into you; this time Yoongi doing nothing to stop it. Your body nearly trembling as Yoongi continued fucking into you. “Fuck.”

“Shit.” Yoongi swore under his breath, his hips stuttering before releasing himself inside of you.

“Yoongi.” You whined at the feeling before it was apparent it was running down your inner thigh. You laughed slightly. “My couch.”

“What?” He was panting, then laughed with you. “Sorry, baby.”

You turned to face him. “God, what time is it? I’m exhausted.”

“You’re telling me. I’m jetlagged as fuck right now.”

You looked up at him, both of you were sweaty, fucked out, and exhausted.

“I’m happy you’re home.”

Yoongi smiled at you, pulling you up off of the couch. “Me too, now let’s take a shower and go the fuck to bed.”

______________________________________________

Tags: @dearlyjoonie @thepurpleghost @che-er-ful @thoughtfullysassysublime @yoongiscta @polyparkj

#bts smut #min yoongi smut #suga bts #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #min yoongi x reader #happy yoongi day!!!#souryoong march madness

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moni-logues · 15 days

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Scoreboard

Pairing: Bangchan x reader (afab)

Genre: pwp/smut, friends-to-lovers

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: A handjob between friends? That's deniable. You can walk that back. Oral? You weren't so sure about that, but Chan was adamant he had to keep things fair..

Content: oral sex (f. receiving), fingering

A/N: DIFFERENT SPACES COUPLE RETURNS!!!!!! A few people had asked about a part two, and I have thought about it, uh, not just a few times lol so here we finally are. WAS I going to let them have sex in part 2? Yes. HAVE I done that? .... No. You'll just have to ask for part 3, losers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I don't think you have to have read the first part to enjoy this but you'd probably get a little more out of it if you have read it)

also yes, unbeta'd etc

*~*~

You could have kissed him forever. Would have were other parts of you a little more patient, a little more willing to take things slow. But you’d wanted Chan for weeks, months, almost years, and now he was finally here, beneath you, kissing you, hands skating softly up the curve of your waist, hesitating at your ribs.

You weren’t hesitating. Not anymore. You pulled back from him so you could strip yourself of your top and you threw your bra with it. Didn’t give him a chance to react, to take you in. Just took his face in your hands and his bottom lip between your teeth again.

“Touch me,” you mumbled, mouth still pressed against his, and you guided his hands upwards, cupped them over your breasts, prayed you wouldn’t have to keep coaxing action out of him.

Because he had said he wanted it. He was kissing you like he wanted it. He had said so. Well, he had said he ‘was amenable’ to sex, which wasn’t exactly gushing enthusiasm but you would take it.

“Chan,” you whispered, taking a beat.

You sat back on your heels, inhaled deeply, and looked at him. He looked at you, colour high on his cheeks, ears burning, a little dazed, a little unsure.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” you asked.

You were crossing a line. That was certain. You were pretty sure that, if you stopped now, you could take it all back. You could rewind this evening and just be friends again. If he wanted. But going forward meant going forward. No returns. You would rather have him as a friend than nothing else, so you needed him to be sure now, right now at this moment, with your toes just over the line.

“Yes!” he said, urgent, emphatic. “Yes, I do. I’m just...”

He groaned and dragged his hands down his face. He didn’t look at you when he spoke next.

“I’m fucking nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s you.”

“What am I?”

He looked at you then, wide and open and the cutest he’d ever been. His hands hesitated in the air, not quite reaching out for you, but not not. You held them, shuffled yourself forward on his lap again, pushed his hair from his forehead.

“Hmm,” you said, contemplating his brow. You tapped it lightly with one finger. “I think you might be thinking too much about this.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” he laughed.

“Close your eyes, Channie.”

You didn’t. You kept them trained on his face. You needed to think now; you needed to slow yourself down so he could catch up. You’d had months to think about this, fantasise about it, dream about it: a thousand scenarios, a thousand acts, a thousand kisses... You had had time, you reminded yourself, to wait for this. Much longer than he had.

And you still had time. This wasn’t a race. The ache in your core was persistent, was impatient, but you didn’t have to be.

You put your lips to his and kissed him. Slow. Deep. It didn’t have to go anywhere, you told yourself, hoping that Chan was somehow getting the message, too. He didn’t have to be nervous, because you wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want to.

You just needed to know what he did want and you would give him the time to tell you.

Eventually, you felt his body relax a little; he leant back, shuffling down on the sofa and pulling you with him. He let his hands roam, grazed a nipple with his thumb a little experimentally until you moaned into his mouth for more. His hands were warm, like his heart, and firm, kneading at your breasts, pinching at your nipples and then pushing you backwards.

With no hesitation this time, no nervous giggles, no shy glances, he put his lips around your tight bud and sucked. He kissed and he licked and he carefully grazed his teeth over you, fully absorbed in the moment. His hot breath against your skin made you shiver and his wet tongue made you wetter.

When you felt as though he had traversed the peaks and valleys of your chest quite enough, you gave a tug at his hair and he finally flicked his eyes to yours. They were black and glazed and the look in them was like nothing you had seen from him before. It sent a thrill racing up your spine and you were about to tell him: how much you wanted him, how good that mouth was, how you wanted it elsewhere, but he spoke first.

“I want to go down on you.”

You choked, shocked out of your lustful stupor. You laughed.

“I thought you were nervous!”

His eyes lightened then, eyebrows raised.

“Are you? We don’t have to- I-”

“No!” You were quick to cut him off, desperate not to let him start thinking again, very happy with where his feelings were leading. “I want to. I want you to. Just... wasn’t expecting you to say it like that.”

The blush was back on his face but he wasn’t so bashful this time. Not quite. There was too much desire there, too much greed.

You stepped off from the sofa and, in one smooth motion, pushed your leggings and underwear to the floor. You kicked them off your feet and rejoined Chan on the sofa, swinging one leg over him, leaning down onto your elbows to resume where you had left off. Your lips were almost touching when his hands came down onto your hips and he swore.

“Fuck! Fuck, you are naked.”

“Yes, that tends to happen when you take your clothes off.”

His touch rounded your backside, another curse escaping on an exhale as his hands roamed this undiscovered territory. You took the opportunity of the distraction to kiss him, but it didn’t last long.

“You’re fucking naked,” he said again, as if it were really a wonder.

“And you’re not,” you countered.

“Fair point.”

And he slapped lightly at your bum to encourage you off him, so he could push his own trousers down, discard his own underwear.

“Now we’re both naked,” you pointed out.

When your eyes met, there was a frisson of tension that you’d felt before, and you knew where it was going, but you forced the laughter down, couldn’t collapse into hysterics – not again, not right now.

“Is this weird?” he asked, thinking again. Always fucking thinking.

“Only if you make it weird! Do you want it to be weird?”

“No.”

“Because it’s going to be if you keep saying it is.”

You sat back in his lap, arms draping over his shoulders, as he rubbed at his face again.

“It’s just...”

He swore quietly as he nuzzled his nose into your neck, dragged it down your jaw and across your cheek until his lips found yours again.

You could feel him beneath you, stirred, re-awakened, and it sent a spasm through your walls. You’d held him in your hand but what you wouldn’t have given to squeeze him in your slick cunt.

“Chan,” you breathed out. “I want to fuck you.”

He kissed you in reply, moaning for half a second before he stopped.

“Wait- no. I want to go down on you.”

“Can’t we just fuck first?”

You rested your forehead against his, rolled your hips over him to make the point for you.

“I just want to fuck you,” you whispered. “Please.”

He shook his head slowly, carefully, still pressing on yours.

“Later. I want to go down on you.”

And you couldn’t deny that hearing those words, not once, not twice, but three times now, made you want it, too. Made you think about his lips and his tongue and fingers and the piercing, blinding reality of this. That it was happening. That none of this was a dream.

“I owe you one,” he continued and you paused.

“Owe me what?”

“An orgasm. I had one. You haven’t.”

“Are we counting?”

He snorted and denied it.

“No, I just think- I just want it to be even.”

You smacked a kiss against his cheek.

“Well, if we’re keeping score, we’re going to need some kind of chart.”

He couldn't stifle his laugh and you joined him, letting a little of the tension go, aware that this could easily careen out of control, abs still hurting from the fit you both had earlier that evening.

“I don’t want a chart, I just...”

He looked at you and you looked back. The merriment fell away, discarded in an instant. Because this wasn't actually funny. Not really. It was hot. It was thrilling. It was frightening. You could see him thinking in those dark eyes, trying to find the right words; you wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to try so hard. Not for you.

“I want this to be good for you.”

You resisted the urge to scoff, because you knew he meant it, and because this meant something to you. Something. Everything.

“It is good for me,” you told him, lips close enough to touch his. You closed the gap and kissed him, firmly. “I want you so fucking badly.”

He tightened his arms around you, crushing your body to his as he latched his mouth to yours. He still tasted like honey butter chips and you knew you’d never be able to eat them without thinking of him, thinking of this. You were definitely crossing a line. The line. And you could not contain your excitement. It smeared between your lips, slick beneath you as you rolled over Chan’s hot, flushed cock.

“I want-” Chan broke away, breathing heavily, “I want to go down on you,” he said, with greater determination this time. “I want to eat you out.”

Without waiting for a response, he tipped you carefully, moving out from under you, pulling your hips to the edge of the sofa and pushing your thighs apart.

“Oh shit,” he breathed, just looking at you.

His hands squeezed at your inner thighs as his jaw clenched. You had seen this kind of focus in him before: powerful and performing and dripping with sweat, determined to leave everything he had out there on the stage, to die before he gave up. A shiver of anticipation rippled across your skin and no sooner had it settled than Chan shifted closer, dropping a surprisingly chaste kiss to your thigh. Another followed it, then one more on the other side. He kissed you all over, some barely there, some that you knew would leave a mark.

“You know you’re literally dripping?” he asked and there wasn’t so much as a hint of his former nerves, his bashfulness, but there remained a quiet awe, a slight disbelief at what was about to happen.

There was also his cheeky, little smirk, and eyes black as pitch, wide like an open mouth. Hungry.

“I’m very fucking aware,” you retorted, the admonition undermined by your breathlessness. “Get on with it.”

He rolled his eyes at you, playfully, like he had done a thousand times before. Then he did something he had never done before. With one hand gripping each thigh, he put his mouth to your lips and licked a broad stripe up to your clit. You quivered, whimpered, swore when he did it again, when he gathered all your arousal on his tongue and swirled it over your swollen bud.

It made you forget every fantasy you’d ever had. You couldn’t remember if you thought he’d be like this or not. Couldn’t remember if you’d imagined correctly the soft, sweeping pad of his tongue flat against you or the hard flick of its tip. Couldn’t recall for even a second if you’d thought to imagine the way his hands would squeeze and pull at you. Had you guessed that he would moan like that? Had you dreamt the feel of his hair between your fingers?

Your hips were moving on their own, uncontrolled by you. Uncontrollable. You couldn’t stop them rutting against his mouth, couldn’t stop the noise resounding from yours.

“Chan, fuck,” you gasped as he sealed his lips tight around your clit and slipped two fingers inside you. “Like that, oh shit, like that. Please... Please...”

He moaned in response, continuing precisely as he was, like that. Just like that. His tongue flicking at your clit like a switch that only turned on. His fingers curling, pressing hard inside you, pushing and pulling in one direction only. He was firm and precise and confident.

You remembered the way he had, minutes ago (was it really just minutes?), taken your fingers in his mouth, sticky with his own cum, after he had finished. You shivered with the heat of it. The thought of the taste of him mixing with the taste of you sent fresh arousal flooding into Chan’s hand; he was quick to catch it, his lips popping as his tongue slipped down to swipe at his sticky fingers pushing the juices from your pussy. The slick sound of it all made you blush, the noise of his enjoyment deepening the heat in your cheeks and your core.

He let his fingers work for a second, his breath washing over your flushed cunt like a hot wind.

“Fuck,” he panted, leaning back on his knees and tipping his head towards the ceiling.

You opened your eyes when you felt his other hand leave your thigh, watched him squeeze at the base of his cock – so dark, so hard, so wet with precum.

“You ok?” you gasped, still rolling your hips against his hand.

He nodded, still looking skyward.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he replied.

His head fell forward and his eyes caught yours, the look in them making you suddenly shy, a giggle slipping out before you could stifle it. Though you needn’t have worried it would start the hysterics again because it was stopped short, cut off by the gasp elicited by Chan’s tongue, licking up your lips, circling your clit, teasingly light and then harder with every rotation.

You gripped the sofa cushions tight, knuckles white, as the slow ticking of the pleasure bomb inside you grew faster, accelerating towards explosion with great intention. You knew it all too well: the tightening, the quivering, the deep, heavy drag that, in a split-second, sprang high, ricocheting from head to toe, gushing forward in a scream of delight.

You flopped back into the cushions, sticky with sweat, chest heaving, head lightly spinning. Chan left a playful trail of kisses up your torso, onto your chest and your neck and then your mouth. He grinned at you, dopey and sparkling.

“One all.”

#skz x reader #skz smut #bangchan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #bangchan x reader

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mypoisonedvine · 8 months

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𝓵𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷 & 𝓵𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 | kitten braden x reader

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 | it's been hard for you since she moved out, of course, and she didn't give you much warning before she stopped by to acquire some forgotten belongings. you know this time, if you let her leave again, she'll be out of your life forever-- could that really be what she wants?

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 | 4.3k

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 | smut (18+ only - thigh riding, fingering, a touch of dom!reader), angst (break up), internalized transphobia/body image stuff, insecurity, lesbian reader, fluff and sweetness 💕

You swung open the front door, having to stop yourself from biting your lip at the sight of her— just how you remembered, except… no, even more beautiful.

She was wearing a simple silky slip dress with a massive fur, the perfect contrast as always; pearls, of course, but not the ones you’d bought her. Maybe she just wanted to show off that somebody new was buying her pearls now, and god, could you blame them?

You probably looked ridiculous, staring at her like that and not even saying anything. “I just came to get my things,” she informed you in that soft, melodious voice of hers.

Your chest deflated. “Y-yes, sure,” you nodded, stepping back to let her in. She brushed past you quickly, a sort of tightness to her walk— a little prissy, you thought. But you sort of liked that, too.

You inhaled a whiff of sweet perfume just after she walked by so briskly, something new, something fresh and a little tart: lemon and lavender. Had she put herself together like this, just to come here and flaunt how incredible she looked? How she’d somehow become more beautiful since she left— how she was doing so well, probably better than ever without you? It should’ve hurt but you didn’t even mind; she could walk all over you with those stilettos and you’d be grateful for it—

You shook your head as she made her way to the bedroom, deciding not to indulge in that train of thought… at least not until after she’d left.

“I thought you, erm, took everything already,” you mumbled as you followed her, watching her go through your drawers— she kept her chin up as she looked, only lowering her eyes in that way that made the length of her lashes all the more apparent. Was she toying with you on purpose? You really hoped she was.

“I couldn’t find my earrings,” she explained, “the little blue ones? I think I left them here— and a few pairs of knickers.”

“The blue ones,” you remembered, “I remember them— they match your eyes.”

She shot you a little look, a frown, and kept searching amongst your socks. “Don’t be like that,” she mumbled, eventually. “I’m just here for the earrings.”

“I know, sorry,” you breathed, “it’s just that— you look great.”

“Hm,” she acknowledged, quickly turning her head to send those blonde curls in a swing; it reminded you of when she twirled in her dresses, laughing and blushing when you told her she looked beautiful. You still couldn’t really believe that was all behind you now, that she was really gone…

“You look good too,” you added, doing an impression of her soft voice, and she seemed confused as she finally looked at you again. “That’s the polite thing, you know— what you say when you run into an ex.”

“I know,” she agreed, “but, well… I said I’d never lie to you. I’m still keeping that promise.”

You scoffed, not sure which part of that to start with. What promise did I break to you? You remember saying you’d never lie to me? I don’t look good?

“And—” she started again, like she’d tried to bite her tongue but couldn’t help herself. She spun on her heel and crossed her arms at you. “And you look like a mess! Stained joggers, your sock’s got a hole in it—”

You looked down at your feet, sighing when you saw your big toe exposed.

“And look at the apartment!” she continued, raising her arms to gesture around at the disorganised room. “God, you’ve got take-away boxes everywhere, you’ve got dirty clothes and dishes on the bed—”

“I am a mess,” you explained, stepping closer. “Of course I am. I’m not like you, I can’t just… I can’t just forget.”

“Forget?” she repeated, offended. “Is that what you think I’ve done?”

“How else can you come in here, looking like that,” you laughed thinly, motioning over her form as she held her coat together shyly, “asking about some bloody earrings… how can you walk through this apartment and not get your heart broken with every step?”

She glanced down, almost looking embarrassed— an emotion you were all too familiar with on her face. You stepped a little closer, dying to meet her gaze.

“I can barely stand to be here,” you breathed, “and I lived here first— I lived here for years before I even met you! And now— fuck, Kitten—” you stopped for a moment to bite your lip as you tried not to cry— “now I just come home and I keep thinking: that’s our apartment.”

She blinked quickly but said nothing. You waited for a while for her to say any of the thousands of things you wanted to hear right then: for her to admit that she still wanted you, too, that she was so lonely without you, that she came up with an excuse to come by because she wanted to make you jealous— even just that she missed living here. But she just bit her lip and avoided your gaze, and your heartbreak shifted to frustration: you quickly knelt down and yanked open the bottom drawer, forcing her to pull her leg out of the way before the wood scraped her ankle. You flipped open a shoebox and dug through until you found the blue ceramic flowers.

“Here,” you decided as you balled them up in your fist, “the earrings you wanted so damn bad.”

But before you stood up, you tossed them carelessly back into the box and picked it up, standing and facing here.

“You know what? Take the whole thing,” you offered roughly, pushing the box into her chest until she delicately held it. She took the lid off and gently began to look through what was inside. “It’s all there— the knickers, too.”

But it wasn’t just her earrings and lacy underthings in the box— it was everything. Ticket stubs from movies you’d seen together, receipts from diners and lingerie stores, dried flowers and ribbons from picnic baskets… the pictures you’d taken of her, Polaroids mostly— some a bit more salacious than the rest. “Darling…” she breathed, and your heart skipped. “You kept all this?”

“Of course,” you replied, hating the way your voice cracked; you turned your head away when she looked up at your face, defiantly wiping a tear from your cheek. “You can keep it now, I don’t… I don’t need it anymore. I just wanna forget.”

She cooed at you sweetly as she set the box aside, grabbing your face and wiping another tear away tenderly with her thumb. You found the strength to look at her again, though you tried not to get your hopes up that she’d really come back. “Oh, sweet thing,” she sighed, “we can’t forget. Neither of us can.”

“Then how am I supposed to go on?” you wondered, sniffling. “I don’t— I really don’t know if I can live like this—”

“Ah, hush,” she dismissed, “you’ll do fine— you can have any girl you want, you won’t have any trouble.”

“But I only want you,” you insisted, grabbing her wrists and holding them tightly. “I only ever wanted you, Kitten.”

Now she turned away, looking like her eyes might be getting misty. “N-now, that can’t be true,” she denied softly.

You laughed a little, mostly out of amazement rather than amusement. “Who the fuck else did you think I wanted?” you wondered. She got her hands free from yours, chewing her lip and crossing her arms, but you stepped closer again. “Kitten, who else would I possibly want?”

“Well, you know,” she stalled, “I just wondered if maybe… I mean, nobody could blame you if— you know, you’re… you’re a lesbian!”

“You’re just now noticing this?”

“No, I mean,” she choked, “I just mean maybe… maybe you would’ve wanted…”

She didn’t say it, she just held her hand up to her mouth— starting to bite her thumb nail nervously— and finally met your gaze. And you heard it in the air, you saw it in her eyes. Maybe you wanted a real girl.

You knew she was sensitive about it sometimes… for the first few months you were together she didn’t even like you to see her naked, didn’t want to be touched too much down there. Then it was okay as long as it was in the dark— or through panties. It took a lot of patience and promises to get her really naked for you, and god was it worth the wait. And now here you were, fucking bewildered that she could think you didn’t like what you saw.

“Kitten,” you breathed, stepping up and frowning when she looked away again. “Kitten, look at me. How could you think that?”

“I just—”

“Was I not obsessed with you enough? Did I not kiss you enough, touch you enough? You had me on my knees— you had me around your finger—”

“I know,” she groaned, “but doesn’t the novelty wear off after a while? You got to try something, you know, different— strange. But a fetish is just that, you know— not meant to be forever.”

“That’s why you left?”

She nodded.

“Oh, Kitten— you stupid, stupid woman.”

“Hey—!” she protested, cut off by your lips pressing onto hers. The resistance didn’t last for more than a half-second, and then she melted into you in the most beautiful way. The way you’d been imagining ever since she left… or, really, ever since you first laid eyes on her.

She hummed sweetly into the kiss, and let you pull her closer. Normally this is where you would’ve dragged her to the bed, but the bed was an aforementioned hellhole, so you had to try to think quickly while your brain short-circuited from the loveliness of the kiss.

Tugging her back by the fur coat, you guided her towards the couch with you, bringing her into your lap without ever breaking your lips away; then you could tug the coat down her arms, exposing the impossibly-thin straps of her dress. She dropped her freckled shoulders in a coquettish way, as you finally pulled back and admired the way you'd ruined her lipstick.

Running your hands down her arms, and then over her sides, you sighed at the sight of her draped in silk— the way her legs straddled your lap only made the dress ride up a little higher, and it was driving you wild already. “Tell me you weren’t just dressed like this to run errands,” you laughed breathlessly as you pet her thigh, dragging your nails a bit to tickle her through the stockings.

“No,” she admitted, watching your hand brush over her garters and reach up under the skirt— only to come back down before it got too far. She whimpered as you teased her, and you felt your chest fill with pride. “No, I dressed up like this for you…”

“Fuck,” you groaned, “all for me?”

“Yes,” she sighed, partially an answer to your question, partially a response to the way you started to kiss her neck.

“Dolled up for me, huh? Wanted me to see what I was missin’?”

She nodded, biting her lip, and you carefully ran your fingertips along the edge of her panties.

You scoffed as you lifted the dress and found those garters pinned to delicate lace. “Earrings my fuckin’ arse,” you mumbled, tickling her inner thigh as she hummed coyly. “Knew exactly what you wanted when you came here, didn’t you, naughty Kitten?”

Her smile fell into a shuddering gasp as you grabbed her between the legs, and she could only nod a little.

“Well, then come and take it,” you offered, grabbing her hips next and pulling her down onto your lap to rub on your thigh. “Go on, lemme see how bad you missed me.”

She sighed, moving carefully at first, but then really started to rock against you as you groaned proudly. “Oh, kiss me,” she pleaded after a moment, and you pulled her down to your open mouth. Finally she was letting go, relaxing in your arms, kissing you and grinding on you shamelessly. She moaned and hummed against your lips, and you ran your hands all over her body— the stocking-clad legs, the curve of her waist, up over her back and chest until you could hold her head. You cradled her face in your palms as you pulled away, enough to speak to her softly while you ran your fingers through her hair.

"Can't go leavin' me again, Kitten," you warned her with a little tug on those lovely blonde curls. "Need you too much. Hear me?"

"Yes," she promised, panting as she thrusted herself a bit faster against your thigh.

"You're mine," you reminded her, and she moaned happily. "Say it."

"Yours," she whined, gasping as you suddenly groped her chest through the silk. You smirked when you felt her nipple harden against your palm: they were always so sensitive. "Yours, all yours—"

You roughly tugged her dress down to suck on her tit, and she gasped before giggling sweetly as she held your head.

"Oh, you brute," she moaned, "you'll rip my dress—"

"You wanted me to," you challenged, letting your teeth graze the little bud until you felt her shudder in your arms. "You put this dress on— these panties and stockings— and you thought about me ripping it all off of you, didn't you?"

Her hips jerked a little in your lap, and that was answer enough for you.

"Needy little Kitten," you praised. “Now let me suck these pretty tits.”

She moaned, head falling back, as you went back and forth between them, mostly shutting your eyes tight and remembering exactly how to lick and tease her, but occasionally looking up at her face: it was just perfect like this.

She whimpered as she started to grind harder against your thigh, pretty pink lips open loosely for her moans to pass through. Just when you thought she was lost in it entirely, and you started to lean back to just look up and watch her go, she moved her own leg between yours to press against your heated centre. You sighed a little and caught her raising an eyebrow as she looked down at you, looking a little proud of herself. "Want you to feel good too, darling," she explained, nodding encouragingly.

You moved your hips and groaned as the friction made you shiver all over. You'd gotten so turned on from watching and touching her that every movement made you groan softly, and you had to take a tight hold of her ass— which made her whine sweetly— just to have something to keep you steady.

"I want us to come together like this," she whispered. "Don't you think it's romantic this way? Just moving together, too desperate to slow down, feeling each other…?"

"This is how it was the first time," you reminded her through a sigh. You remembered it like it was yesterday, even though it was months and months ago: the way she was so shy and delicate about it at first, the sweet noises she made for you as you touched her— Does little Kitten purr? you'd asked her teasingly. She does when a handsome new friend makes her come, she'd replied, or gives her some money.

You'd done both, actually, desperate to make this lovely Kitten your pet. It felt more now like she owned you, and you didn't mind it one bit. "I remember, too," she giggled, "you said it was the most fun you ever had without taking your clothes off."

“And then I asked you to stay with me,” you remembered with a laugh of your own. “I was yours from the start, Kitten, and you knew it, didn’t you?”

She didn’t answer, just petting your hair and lifting your head so you’d look up at her. “I was yours, too, darling,” she promised, looking deep into your eyes. “Now won’t you come for me?”

“I’m close,” you breathed, “fuck, Kitten— you wanna make me come, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she smiled, breathing heavily by your ear as you bucked your hips up against her faster. “Yes, I’d like to see it.”

“I wanna see you soak those panties,” you countered, panting yourself as the pressure began to build. “Show me, Kitten— show me that pretty face when you cream your little knickers—”

“Oh!” she yelped sweetly, and you could feel it— the pulsing between her legs, through the fabric of your pants. You pressed even harder against her thigh and came, too, both of you moving helplessly and instinctively— and it was pretty romantic, like she said. But it was dirty in just the right way, too.

“Good girl,” you praised, though your own voice wasn’t very commanding anymore as you were reaching your high. “Fuck, you’re so good—”

You choked and dropped your head back, your hips slowing to a stop while she smiled and relaxed above you; “Darling,” she purred, leaning down and kissing your cheek with a conservative peck. “That was lovely.”

You nodded in agreement, smiling up at her and tucking her hair behind her ear— it still looked pretty perfect despite all that it had been through.

“Now maybe let’s clean up and get some lunch,” she offered, but she whimpered when you grabbed her waist aggressively.

"No fucking way I'm done with you already," you growled, watching her eyes get a little wide.

You ran your hand up her body again, feeling the way her chest swelled and sank as she tried to catch her breath.

“Get them wet for me, love,” you ordered softly as you pressed two fingers to her lips, and she dipped down to wrap her mouth around them. You hummed in praise as she sucked them gently, batting her eyes at you— because of course she would.

She looked at you expectantly as you dragged the fingers slowly from her mouth, watching her plump lip go slack and bounce back when you pulled the digits away. “Gonna put those inside me?” she asked, trying to sound innocent.

“If you ask nicely," you teased.

“Oh,” she sighed, “please— I missed them, you know. Missed how you feel inside me— any part of you, really— but those fingers, darling, you know what you can do to me with those…”

“Did you try with your own fingers?” you wondered with a smirk.

“With these nails? Heavens, no,” she denied. You reached into her panties and teased her hole with the wet fingers, circling her rim as she mewled, hoping to break her patience. “C’mon then, did I not ask nicely enough?” she wondered after a minute or so of that.

“Lay down on your back,” you whispered your command to her, “and open your legs for me. Then I can give you what you want, princess.”

She got up off your lap and sank down to the floor in front of you— you figured she would’ve stayed on the sofa, but this felt a little more submissive— laying back slowly and seductively. How could she do that, look so much like an angel and vixen all at once, while just laying on the ground?

Looking up at you with sultry half-lidded eyes, she slowly spread her legs and let you get an eyeful of the stockings and garters, the lace panties stained with come, the sweetest legs and the heaven she'd been hiding between them.

You fell to your knees in front of her, snapping the garters off and yanking her stockings down to touch her bare, smooth skin. “God, Kitten,” you breathed in awe, “you know exactly what you fucking do to me.”

“Missed this sweet little cunt, didn’t you?” she noticed with a proud smile.

“Course I did,” you panted, kissing up her thighs. “You know I fucking did.”

You reached down and pulled her panties aside, pressing your fingers to her hole again, but this time you actually slipped one in. She jolted a little when you pushed past the resistance, and you smiled.

“Always so fucking tight,” you praised softly, still kissing her bent knee gently but meeting her gaze now. She had this look in her eyes when she had something inside her, a wonderful look you never wanted to go too long without seeing.

Tight, yes, but it was a needy hole, too— and you both knew she already wanted more than just one. She moaned through a smile as you added the second, carefully stretching her open as her hands clenched fistfuls of the shag beneath her.

A shag on the shag. You would've snorted to yourself as you realised the humour in the situation if you weren't too wrapped up in how gorgeous she looked spread out on your floor like this.

You still only had the two fingers about halfway in, focusing on stretching her carefully and just barely teasing that little spot that you knew all too well— you wanted her begging, if you had anything to do with it. You had to get some sense of control back after she'd walked in here and made a complete fool out of you.

She hadn't said anything yet, though, just moaned and rocked her hips against you. Your free hand kept petting her thighs encouragingly, and you kept looking back and forth between her hole swallowing up your fingers and that gorgeous face lost in pleasure.

You pushed your fingers deeper, all the way to the knuckle, and she arched her back up from the carpet. “O-oh, more, please,” she begged.

“More fingers?” you smirked. “Two’s not enough for you?”

“No, I just mean—” she pouted, “I just want more of you…”

You leaned down and laid over her, bringing your face close to hers, as she looked at you with the slightest hint of nervousness in her eyes. “Like this?” you offered under your breath, and she nodded before hiding her face in the crook of your neck. She was rarely shy about sexual things, even when she pretended to be, but sentiment sometimes made her act like this— she didn’t like to ask you for affection, as if she still feared you’d reject her. Generally, your solution to this was to shower her in it, so she’d never have to ask… but you had to admit, you loved the way she begged for you.

She moaned into your shoulder as you held her closer with your free hand, still curling your fingers inside her and finally properly rubbing the most sensitive place inside her.

She whimpered and bucked her hips a bit when you pressed against it, and you smiled; “There, baby? Is that where you need it?”

“Yes, yes,” she mewled, clutching tighter onto you.

You brushed through her curls with your fingers, trying to coax her out. “Let me see that pretty face,” you cooed, laughing a little when she shook her head against you. “No? I don’t get to see my angel?”

She sniffled and pulled back enough to let you see her: big, wet eyes with her mascara beginning to smudge, her lip caught between her teeth.

“You’re so beautiful,” you promised softly. “But I love you for who you are, Kitten. You’re not a fetish, or a compromise. You’re just the best thing that ever happened to me.”

She whimpered and held your face, kissing you sweetly— but the kiss got faster and more desperate at the same time that your movements inside her did, and soon she was making those sweet noises that you knew meant she would come again.

“Let me see one more time, love,” you requested, “lemme see that pretty face you make when I make you come.”

“O-oh, fuck, I’m close,” she promised. “I’m close, darling— I’ll come, I’ll come for you—”

“Yeah,” you agreed encouragingly, “yeah, you’ll give my fingers a nice squeeze, won’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” she whined, arching her back deeper. “L-lick them again, please…”

“Your tits, honey?”

“Yes, please, please—” she chanted, moaning louder when you dipped your head down and wrapped your lips around one of those cute little nipples. You suckled at it while she came, thrusting your fingers into her while she writhed and whimpered out your name; you didn’t stop moving your fingers until she seemed like she was trying to move her hips away, and you didn’t stop kissing her breast until she pulled you away from it by your hair, dragging you up to kiss her— it was sweet and lazy and slow, yet with a sense of desperation felt not in the speed of it all but in the way she tried to hold you tighter with weak and shaking hands.

You must have kissed for ages before you broke apart, and you rolled onto your back at her side; the two of you laid on the floor, sweaty and sticky, panting as you looked up at the ceiling.

After a moment, she turned her head and looked over at you, and you looked back at her as she offered you the softest smile— a real heart-melter, that one. Her smile made your knees weak from the very start. Reaching forward, she wiped some of her lipstick off of your lip, and you kissed the tip of her thumb.

"You really do look awful," she said suddenly, and you chuckled nervously.

"Your pillowtalk skills have seriously diminished since the last time we were together," you noticed.

"No, I just mean— I could tell you'd been crying," she whispered.

"Yeah," you sighed in return, moving a curl out of her face carefully. "Well, like I said, I was pretty miserable once you left."

"Then why'd you let me leave?"

"I figured you'd met someone else," you breathed. "You wanted to get out so fast— I thought maybe you found a man."

"A man?" she repeated, lifting her head slightly in shock.

"You don't have too much trouble with men," you reminded her, and she laughed.

"I only have trouble with men," she assured, and you felt her hand reach for yours, clammy fingers tangling together. "Besides— who else would I possibly want but you, darling?"

#patricia braden x reader #kitten braden x reader #kitten braden smut #cillian murphy x reader #breakfast on pluto

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stariikis · 18 days

Text

lucky girl | kim sunoo

synopsis ; sure, you're already well known as enhypen member kim sunoo's girlfriend, but that doesn't hinder the thrill of tossing a coin and landing on heads when sunoo chooses you, in the midst of the crowd.

pairing ; idol!kimsunoo x gf!reader genre ; fluff, established rs wc ; 530 notes ; for @lilacnini and @nishions polaroid memories event ੈ♡˳

The hashtag, ‘#ENHYPENSUNOO’ is trending again.

Or rather, what with all the recent concerts, fancalls and fansigns, all you’re seeing on your for you page are clips of your boyfriend interacting with his fangirls. How many times have you seen the caption, ‘Sunoo noticed me!’, or watched a video of Sunoo briefly interlocking fingers with another girl? You are always coming across concert videos with a shaking camera pointed towards Sunoo, who points their way with a warm smile and hand heart.

You quickly look up from your phone to cross the road, slowly growing tired of the repetitive posts you’re viewing.

But you’re pretty much used to it. Some of Sunoo’s fans have asked you whether or not you get jealous often, and you can safely (and honestly) say that you don’t. They look at you disbelievingly, but don’t question you further. They just slink back into the crowd, desperate for a glimpse of their idol.

You can’t blame them for being curious.

What you don’t ask them, however, even though you’re sorely tempted to, is, ‘why would I ever feel jealous?’ What’s there to be jealous about when Sunoo gives you morning kisses that only you receive? Why would you be overcome with envy seeing lame high-fives when you’re getting daily welcome-home hugs?

Don’t you get the best treatment out of all of them? Even though sometimes you do wish you could have the same memory, a moment you'll be able to cherish in your mind forever.

You run towards where the crowd congregates, screams and whistles for all the members arising from the hundreds of fans. A few brightly coloured heads at the edge of the crowd helps you distinguish where the members are. Rushing forward with only one purpose (to greet all the members, not just Sunoo, of course!), you squeeze past all the people. You don’t bother to wave towards all the fans who recognise you.

“Kim Sunoo!” You scream, probably blending in with all his fangirls when you reach the barricade and lean against it. You whip your phone out to capture this moment, whether he notices you or not, because all you want is to have your very own video to post, to caption with the tag “‘Kim Sunoo noticed me!”

He’s busy on the other side of the street, forming hand-hearts with dazed teenagers and waving cheerily at their general crowd. You’re starting to lose hope in him even seeing you, but when he turns around to check in on your side of the road, his eyes sparkle when they meet yours. He pretends not to act pleasantly surprised when you beckon him over.

“My girl,” he whispers happily, ignoring the collective gasp from everyone around you as he pulls you in and kisses your cheek. Heart starting to race, your cheeks grow warm where he kissed you, and you can’t help but gaze starstruck after him as he walks off, giggling teasingly your way.

And you capture it all on camera – granted, it’s most likely angled awkwardly towards the ground – but at least now you can caption a post with ‘My boyfriend noticed me!’. A beautiful, lasting memory that’s purely yours.

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jals-stuff · 24 days

Text

just an assistant..?

Orter Madl x f!reader

Sure, being his assistant is great... but what if you could get more than that?

Warnings: nsfw! SMUT with female reader, flirty reader, kind of rough?, swearing, dom!orter, semi-public fornication, bossy orter.

MDNI please! Not cool :(

Note: again with no sleep. this has been stuck in my head all day. gods know I love this man. barely proofread, probably bad english (*apologises in french*).

Word count: 3k ish

hope you'll enjoy. (ps: to all of the orter simps who reblog my stuff, y'all hashtags are absolutely heartwarming and i tear up everytime. love you all xoxo <3)

Flirting was never your thing.

You were a quite discrete young woman and your definition of a good way to flirt was to stare at the one you’re interested in, in hopes they would make the first move. But as years went on, you realised it probably wasn’t an efficient technique. Giving up on love forever had crossed your mind several times… or, well, that was until you met a certain workaholic man.

You had worked extra hard to earn a position as Orter’s assistant, and you were quite happy with it. Working around him was refreshing in a way that most of the things you had to do was bringing him coffee, delivering and bringing his paperwork (an impressive quantity of it, you would’ve never guessed the Bureau required so much of it) and reminding him of meetings and important appointments; simple tasks that didn’t require much effort.

Orter was never the kind of man to talk a lot about his feelings, or talk in general, but there was something you couldn’t quite pinpoint that gave him such an irresistible charisma. Was it his impeccable appearance on a daily basis, or maybe his flawless allure? Perhaps the authoritative voice and golden eyes were a part of it? It was hard to tell; but it was rather obvious that you liked him quite a lot.

This is when your personality shifted completely. You don’t get anything without trying, and you were definitely going to shoot your shot with him. How? …by flirting, of course! Sure, you were potentially awful at it, but he was rather dense when it came to this, so he probably wouldn’t know the difference.

However, most people would call it seduction rather than flirting, the way you bent over slightly more than necessary when picking something up, or how your hand brushed delicately against his own when you handed him documents, even the way you looked at him. Every single gesture was carefully calculated in order to make him see you as more than his assistant.

He was so hardworking and diligent, it was hard not to root for him. Besides, with the amount of effort he put into every single working day, the poor man was probably very stressed out, and quite honestly… the things you would do to him if only to allow him to… alleviate this stress was between you and the gods only.

Today was a regular day and your shift had just started. You had brought him coffee, as usual, and were sitting in a corner of his office to arrange his meetings and appointments at reasonable hours and within convenient timings to try and make his life easier, but the schedule you had made for him required inspection, and so, you slowly stood up and graciously made your way to his chair, your hand softly reaching for his shoulder.

“Mr. Mádl,” you cooed, leaning a bit towards him, your voice just deep enough to hit these sultry notes. “Your schedule is complete, please do tell me if you see any… issues with it.” You trailed off, slowly brushing your hand off him. He gave it a quick glance, then looked up at you for a second, his expression unreadable, before reading the schedule you had handed him.

You leaned in a bit closer, your shoulder close to his now and your face too, your delicate fingers pointing out certain things that might still need approval on the other party or a few elements you’d change if he so desired. He simply gave a nod and handed it back to you, and you made sure that your soft hands would very faintly caress his own as you took the paper back. “Thank you, I’ll get your coffee now~” you purred with a slight chuckle, and at this point he was just feeling disoriented.

“Don’t leave yet, I have questions.” His voice was, as per usual, unreadable; Orter always had this same flat tone and it was quite hard to discern his emotions. “You have been very… tactile, for a while now.” He crossed his arms softly and lowered his glasses a little bit, his eyes on you. “Care to explain?”

So he had noticed. What to do now? Should you come clean and confess that you’re intentionally flirting with him, or should you pretend you’re innocent and plead not guilty? The latter was probably safer if you wanted to keep your job, because openly flirting with your boss was a shitty idea from the start anyway, but you just couldn’t help it.

“Pray, tell, whatever are you talking about, Mr. Mádl?” You mused, your fingertips hiding your lips and this faint smile while your gentle eyes rested on his. “Is everything alright?” You faked concern, your eyes supposedly betraying a hint of worry, and he only gave a sigh and closed his eyes, sighing deeply.

“Miss (L/N), I may be dense, but I am no fool.” He started calmly, but anyone could’ve told he was running short on patience, and you were probably not going to help with this. “If you value your position at the Bureau, I would suggest you cooperate when I ask you a question.” Orter opened his eyes again, his doubtful gaze on your deceitful eyes.

“Oh, Mr. Mádl…” you sighed softly with a gentle smile as you took a few steps back towards his desk and softly put the schedule back on it, then slowly made your way to his chair, leaning forwards just enough so your cleavage was a tiny bit revealing. “Let a girl feel attractive, at least for herself~” you cooed again, and he seemed to lose patience even more.

You looked at his glasses on the tip of his nose, at his tie that was obviously too tight, at his shirt you would love to see on the floor, and at his hands, then his lips… before looking back into his eyes with sultry eyes and a gentle, polite smile. You couldn’t help but run your fingers against his forehead, brushing away his soft bangs, your hand then landing on his shoulder and softly caressing its way away from him.

“But I will admit…” You brought your fingertips to your lips again to conceal this faint, smug smile that was creeping up on your face now. “...I do enjoy being tactile around such a… handsome man.” A small giggle escaped your lips as you playfully stuck your tongue out to try and get a reaction out of him.

“You are infuriating, you know that?” He spat, his scolding glare on yours. You raised both eyebrows in surprise; seeing Orter speak his mind was very uncharacteristic and frankly enough, you didn’t expect him to feel this bothered with your behaviour. Were you going to stop teasing him though? Absolutely not. You gave a pout and pushed his glasses back into their spot and took a few steps back, making him angrier than he was before.

Your flirtatious personality was pissing him off more than anything else, but you couldn’t help it, he was just that irresistible. Even though you knew you would probably ruin your chances with him, deep inside, you knew he was just a man, and no matter how lawful he was, he would eventually give in. After all, he couldn’t resist his adorable assistant… right?

“Damn…” You trailed off, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and your arms crossed. “You look very sexy when you get angry.” Oh, the look he gave you was priceless. You could feel all the intensity of his golden eyes right into yours, and he stood up slowly, walking towards you. He stopped and looked down at your smug smile.

“You are insufferable— worse, even.” He sighed deeply, clenching his fists. “I’ll wipe that smirk off your face.” He grabbed you by the collar, his expression way more serious than you thought it would be. It wasn’t the playful argument you had hoped for; he was genuinely mad this time. It was quite a surprise to you, but his behaviour had finally changed and you could not let this opportunity slide.

“Do your worst, Mr. Sandman~!” You teased with a chuckle, and were only met with a low growl and a rough grab of your waist, pulling you closer to him, your face mere inches away from his. Your eyes travelled down to his lips and you were so, so tempted to kiss him right here, right now to taunt him more… and you did. A quick, gentle peck was all it took for him to run a hand over his desktop and throw all of his paperwork to the floor, pinning you down on your back against his desk.

“Oh I fucking will.”

Orter undid your waistcoat and ripped your buttons off, exposing your chest to his now hungry eyes. He grabbed you by the front of your bra and brought your chest closer to his, his hips pinning yours against the edge of his desk, and suddenly, you realised he was probably going to make you regret everything you’ve done so far. It started with him removing his belt with one hand and holding both of your cheeks with the other one.

He quickly wrapped his belt around your wrists and pinned you back down against the desk, his hand pressing against your belly just enough to keep you from squirming, and he slowly brought it up towards your bra, slipping a finger underneath it to tug a little bit on it. But that wasn’t nearly enough to quiet you down.

“Bit bold, aren’t we, Mr. Sandman?”

He didn’t reply, but instead decided to grab your bra with his fist, and you could feel the disaster happen as he ripped it completely, denying you of your only comfortable bra. A surprised yelp escaped your lips, and he finally started to look satisfied. “Bit shy, aren’t we, Miss assistant?” He asked with a chuckle, yet his face remained completely neutral.

You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed as you didn’t expect him to actually expose you like this and forever ruin a piece of your clothing, but he didn’t stop here. He forcefully folded your arms behind your back, and if you weren’t so turned on by the situation, it would’ve probably hurt you a lot. Now that your hands were out of the way, he brought both hands to your breasts and started feeling them up, roughly pressing them into his calloused palms and fingers.

Orter’s fingers tentatively rubbed against your hardened nipples, eliciting a quiet groan from you and a slight squirm of your hips, but he quickly held you in place with his own. “Stop squirming, you asked for it.” He grunted with another roll of his hips against your crotch, effectively silencing any protests you had, as they died with another lustful groan.

He could feel his pants becoming tighter and tighter from your sweet sweet voice, and obviously, his clothed boner rubbing underneath your skirt did not help; he could feel your moist panties through his clothing and it was driving him crazy.

“Someone’s enjoying a little discipline, mh?” He asked with a condescending tone, and you couldn’t do anything but nod quickly, your cheeks slightly flushed from how bold he had grown over the last few minutes. Everytime his erection pressed against your aching clit, it felt like you were getting wetter. Your cunt was clenching around nothing and you physically felt the need to have him inside of you.

Unfortunately, he seemed determined to tease you. His hand grabbed both of your cheeks again, making you look straight into his eyes as he leaned forwards and slipped his hand underneath your skirt, running his fingers against your damp panties, making you shiver in delight and sheer lust.

“A-ah, Orter—”

He pressed your cheeks harder in an urge to silence you again, not wanting to hear anything else than your needy groans and whimpers. He slipped his fingers inside your panties and straight-up pressed against your clit, looking into your eyes as you whined loudly, making him raise his eyebrows in a condescending fashion. “Oh~ is my little assistant enjoying her punishment?”

You nodded quickly again, making him bite his lip, his gaze shifting from condescending to lustful, and he couldn’t help but lean forwards, holding your face in place so he could look at you while you squirmed under his touch. He rubbed your sensitive clit harder and faster, listening to your whimpers as if they were a musical masterpiece, licking his lips in hunger at the feeling of your crotch getting wetter.

Orter’s eyes never left yours as he expertly stimulated you further, making your thighs and hips tremble, the feeling of this knot growing inside your stomach. As your trembling reached its peak and your moans got louder, he pulled his hand out of your panties and gave his finger a teasing lick, looking down on you with a mocking glare.

“You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily, did you?”

It was frustrating, so frustrating, but at least you were about to get a real piece of him now. At least, that’s what you could make of it; you were panting and looking at the ceiling when you heard his pants’ zipper go down. He wasted no time and freed his cock from his boxers, immediately rubbing it inside your panties, collecting your juices.

The way his tip rubbed against your puffy clit again sent shocks down your spine and you couldn’t help but whine a bit louder in such a needy, pathetic way. You’d gotten so wet for him, and he was blissfully aware of that fact. He then pushed his tip slightly against your folds, but retracted it and, for the first time, smiled at you; a cruel, mocking smile.

“Beg.”

You couldn’t take it anymore and didn’t want to waste any more time, and so you did not hesitate. Your hips were already bucking into his unwillingly, your body practically physically aching at the lack of his dick.

“Please, please Orter. I’ve been really bad.. Please fuck me into discipline, pl—”

Your sentence did not entirely go through as he pushed forward, effectively filling you up with his large member, making you shakily whimper from the pleasure, as he grabbed both of your hips and started rutting into you like a madman. You couldn’t help but wonder if your coworkers (or anyone walking through the corridor at this very moment) would hear your pitiful cries of pleasure, and it seems he thought the same.

“That’s it, good girl. Let them know how you deserve to be treated.”

Not because he told you so though, but his words made you painfully tighten around his cock, crying out loud in sheer bliss from his rough thrusts and the way your body jolted up everytime he pushed forwards. Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes and you couldn’t even see him properly anymore.

Seeing you cry from the pleasure awakened something in him and he decided to make it even worse for you. One of his hands left your hips and moved to your crotch, his thumb teasingly rubbing your clit with the tip of his nail, making your legs tense up and close around his hips as they immediately raised up and he had to push you back down with the hand that was holding you back as you quite literally wailed from the stimulation.

You were sweaty, flushed, shaking in pleasure and it was clear the paperwork that was under your hips was ruined forever, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. Instead, he pressed his thumb more firmly against your needy clit and rubbed it more and more, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your trembling cunt was clenching around his cock as he plummeted forwards with each movement of his hips, only to see you drool and cry more from his ministrations. He could feel himself get close as well, and decided that you’d be the first to go! What a gentleman. And so, his thrusts grew in speed and force, and his thumb was practically crushing your clit, forcing loud shaky moans and whines out of your mouth.

“Orter, ‘m… so close—”

He raised an eyebrow and his lips curved into a smirk as he eyed the way your breasts were bouncing with every slam of his hips into yours. He was also quite sweaty now and his clothes were sticking to his skin uncomfortably, but he needed this release more than anything else.

He kept on drilling into your needy pussy until you started shaking harder, convulsing almost, and your legs closed harshly around his hips, but he didn’t stop rubbing your clit nor thrusting, he only pushed you back down with his other hand as he hungrily grunted in pleasure. “C’mon… come for me, be a good, obedient girl…”

And you couldn’t hold it in anymore; you came and covered his desktop, pants, and carpet in your sweet juices, convulsing from the overstimulation he was giving you as his fingers never stopped rubbing you and he fucked you through your orgasm. It took every fibre of his being not to fill you up immediately as you tightened hard against his cock, and as soon as you were done, he gave one last thrust, holding himself nested deep inside of you, and grunted loudly as he gave you your reward on the spot.

You were softly trembling from the overstimulation, your face covered in sweat, drool and tears, as you found it quite difficult to catch your breath afterwards. He finally retrieved his belt and put his pants back on correctly, adjusting his glasses one more time before walking towards his closet to grab a large coat, and he tossed it at you.

He sighed, then sat back on his chair, crossing his legs, studying your fucked out expression, visibly pleased to see you flustered and blushing from the steamy interaction. “Go and get me my coffee, miss assistant. And get one for yourself, too. I believe we have important matters to discuss today…”

#orter madl #orter mádl #orter x reader #mashle orter #madl orter #orter madl x reader #orter mádl x reader #mashle x reader #mashle x you #orter madle x you #mashle orter madl #mádl orter #mádl orter x reader #orter madl smut #orter mádl smut #orter smut #mashle smut

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vodika-vibes · 3 months

Note

Hi Vodika 🥰

I'm back with a second ask for your follower celebration!

Could I get a Wolffe x Fem!Reader with a narcissus and pansy bouquet? Where the reader ends up in the hospital and Wolffe confesses his love for her when he visits and realizes how much she means to him?

Please and thank you 💚😘💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Accidents Happen

Summary: You've been crushing on Wolffe for, what seems like, forever. But you're convinced that he'll never feel the same. However, when you're injured at work, things change.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x F!Reader

Word Count: 2020

Prompts: Narcissus - unrequited love, Pansy - you occupy my thoughts

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: You did say that Wolffe was on your brain! So I hope this story makes you happy! And here's your personal divider that I made for you. As a note This is Wolffe's message, and This is the reader's messaging.

Early mornings are the worst, you think as your alarm goes off at 5 am.

You lay in bed for a moment, listening to your alarm scream at you from across the room, before you sigh and swing your legs out of the bed and push to your feet.

Early mornings where you actually have to do work the whole day are even worse. You blearily cross the room and hit the button on top of your clock, before you flip the lightswitch, making it impossible for you to go back to sleep.

And then you cross back to your bed, and grab your comm from its charger.

Several messages from your friends from the night before. Several more from your boss from last night and early this morning. A handful of emails that need to be deleted or responded to in kind.

You sigh heavily, and open the app for your work. You quickly log in for the day, before you go back to your emails. You absently answer several work emails as you pad through the apartment into your kitchen.

You set your comm down on the counter, still scanning your emails, and you grab your electric kettle to fill it with water. You set it back on it’s stand and flick the power switch, before you grab your comm again and turn to leave the room.

You start to reply to an email when the dark blue bubble of your instant messenger pops up on the screen.

You up?

Your heart speeds up and your face heats when you see the simple words sent to you by Wolffe. Your crush on him is, frankly, embarrassing.

Tragically. Morning Wolffe. What’s up?

Comet has been harassing me to remind you about the book. The one with the birds.

You stare at the screen blankly for a moment, You mean The Raven Emperor series?

How should I know? Probably.

You giggle, Wolffe, there aren’t any actual birds in that book.

I really don’t care, sarad.

Well, someone’s grumpy this morning.

You’d be grumpy too if your twin brother stole all of your caf.

What, the GAR doesn’t give you a caf supply.

The GAR wouldn’t give us armor if we didn’t need it to win the war.

You can hear him rolling his eyes across the text message, and it’s kind of impressive.

Anyway

Me and the boys are going to 79s this evening

Coming?

I wish.

I have a building that I need to appraise, and it’s something like 200 apartment buildings.

I’m going to be busy until midnight

🥺

Ah.

Well, next time then.

You wait a moment for Wolffe to say something else, but he went offline soon after.

I want to go on a date with you. Your finger hovers over the send button, before you sigh and shake your head, deleting the message.

Wolffe would never be interested in you. Not like that.

You just have to be happy with his friendship.

And here you thought ‘love unrequited’ was just something in the trashy romance novels you read in secret.

You allow yourself to wallow for a whole 30 seconds, and then you remember that you still have to shower and eat breakfast, and you toss your comm on your bed as you hurry into the fresher.

The chat with Wolffe means that you don’t have time for a proper breakfast, especially if you give yourself time enough to shower properly, but you think it was worth it. He’s Wolffe, after all.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re scrambling out of your fresher, pulling your wet hair into a messy knot at the back of your head, and you hurry back into the kitchen.

In your rush you accidentally pour some hot water over your thumb as you fill your travel mug with the water, and you release a pained hiss. “I don’t have time for this,” You say to the empty apartment. You eye the blister critically, and decide that it’s not worth the hassle of treating it

Quickly, but carefully, you finish putting your breakfast together, and you hurry out the front door.

Your boss wants you at the complex by 6 am.

And luckily, you make it. By the skin of your teeth, maybe, but you’re still on time.

“You’re almost late,” the stern looking older man scolds.

“The keyword there being almost,” You counter, as you look up at the building, “This is the Meridian Complex?”

“Yep.”

“You spent how much on this?”

“2.5 Million Credits,” He sounds proud about it.

“This is a death trap.” You point out, cringing as a fake shutter falls off a window three stories up.

“It just needs a little work.” Your boss says, and then he pauses, “You are up to date on your vaccines, right?”

“Ha. You’re hilarious.” You pull your datapad out of your car, and glance at the information on the screen, “You have the keys?”

“Yup, all of the door codes are set to 00000.”

“Noted.” You make a note on the datapad, “After you.”

Half an hour later, you realize that your conservative estimation of this taking until midnight was far, far too generous. This is going to take days.

You look around at the rotting floorboards, and at the graffiti and holes on the walls, and you sigh. At least the paycheck is going to be really nice.

“Hey! I think I found a half decent apartment!” Your boss calls from down the stairs, “Second floor, 209. We can use this as a staging room.”

“Coming!” You shake your head at the sheer mess, and half wonder if you could message Wolffe and ask for the Wolfpack to help. You laugh softly at the idea, the boys would be more than happy to help, you’re sure, but it’s not realistic.

You start up the stairs.

But, if he was willing to help, you could spend more time with Wolffe, which would be a win.

A weird noise makes you slow to a stop, and you pause, tilting your head to listen better.

“What are you doing?” Your boss asks from the top of the stairs.

“...I heard something-” You trail off as there’s a cracking noise under your feet.

Your boss’ face goes gray. “Hurry!”

You go to take one more step, when the cracking noise returns. And when you put your foot down on the stair…it keeps going.

You don’t even have time to scream as the staircase collapses under you.

The last thing you see as you topple backwards is your boss’ horrified face, and you hear a shout of your name.

Wolffe is not having a super day.

On top of the fact that Fox stole all of the Caf and the fact that he’s been confined in his office doing paperwork all morning, the fact that the Wolfpack’s pretty sarad won’t be joining them at 79s tonight just shoved him into an awful mood.

Nights out are always better when she’s with them.

He glowers at the various documents that need his signatures. He should be grateful. He’s not Marshal Commander. He’s seen the amount of work that Cody, Fox, and Bly have on a daily basis.

He’s lucky that he is only a commander and he only has this much work to do.

…yeah, nope. That didn’t help.

He rests his head on his hand as he taps his stylus against the table. “When Alpha said that a command position was worth it, he was a filthy liar.” Wolffe announces to the room at large.

He should make Comet do this paperwork in exchange for the free time he’ll need to read that book series he’s going to borrow-

Wolffe’s thought process is cut off when his office door slides open and Comet bursts in, “Commander!”

“What is it?”

“Sarad is in the hospital.”

Wolffe’s heart drops into his stomach. He drops all of his work and grabs his helmet, “Which hospital?”

“Coruscant General. Sir, where-?”

“I’m going to go check on her, of course.” He pushes past Comet, “You’re in charge until I get back.”

“Yes, sir.” Comet pauses, “Let us know how she is?”

“I will,”

The trip to Coruscant General doesn’t take long, Wolffe is able to walk the distance. And, as luck has it, no one stops him when he enters the hospital properly.

“Can I help you sir?” The nurse at reception asks.

“I hope so,” Wolffe replies, before he offers her name, “I was told that she’s here.”

The woman nods, “Are you the husband?”

Wolffe pauses for half a second, “Yes, that's right.” He lies.

She nods again, “On the fifth floor, room 517.”

“Thank you.” He marches over to the lift, and presses the button for the fifth floor. Wolffe’s mind is whirling. How was she hurt? How badly? Does he need to set up a guard rotation for her?

Did someone attack her? Does he need to get the guard involved?

The lift comes to a stop and he steps out, and heads to the nurses station. He offers her name once more, and again, lies about being her husband, and he’s pointed in the right direction.

The door is shut, and Wolffe lightly knocks on the door. He doesn’t get a response, but he pushes the door open anyway.

“Sarad?” The lights are dimmed, but not so much that he’s not able to see her.

She looks…bad.

Covered in bruises and bandages. Various machines attached to her, monitoring her heart rate and blood pressure and giving her IV medication.

“Oh, cyare.” Wolffe walks over to her, and looks her over. Every inch of her is covered in angry looking bruises or cuts. “What happened?” Gently, very gently, he brushes a strand of hair out of her face.

A lot of the tension he hadn’t realized that he was carrying drains from his body now that he’s sure that she’s not dying or dead.

It’s kind of funny, in a way.

Sure, he’s always known that his sarad was important to him. He’s not been blind to the fact that she’s always on his mind and that he never isn’t thinking about her. But he didn’t know just how important until this very moment.

Wolffe’s fingers linger on her cheek, and he’s startled when he hears a soft moan from her. “Sarad?”

Hazy eyes peer up at him, confused, “‘lffe?”

“Yeah,” He smiles at her, “It’s me. How are you feeling?”

“...wh’re?”

“You’re at Coruscant General, you were hurt, do you remember?”

Her fingers flex, and Wolffe takes her hand in his free hand, “Stairs,” She mumbles, some of the haze leaving her voice, “The stairs collapsed-”

“Unlucky,” Wolffe says quietly, as he sets his helmet on the side table and then sits in a seat, “How are you feeling?”

She’s quiet as she considers his question, “...fuzzy.” She finally says.

He chuckles, “I’m not surprised, by the look of it, you’re on some good pain medicine.”

“Wolffe?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you in the hospital? Are you hurt?” She asks, her brow furrowed as she tries to puzzle it out.

“Come on, Sarad. You know the hospital doesn’t treat clones.” Wolffe brushes his fingers across her lips, “I’m here for you, of course.” He pauses, “I also let everyone believe that I’m your husband. Sorry.”

She hums, “I don’t mind.”

“That I lied?”

“Being your wife.” She clarifies, “Sounds like fun. Let’s do that.”

Wolffe laughs, “I think we’re skipping a couple of steps, Sarad.”

She hums again, her eyes fluttering closed, “Don’ care. Love Wolffe.” She mumbles.

His breath catches in his throat for a moment. And then a wide grin crosses his face. “Are you still awake, cyare?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I love you.” He whispers into her ear, and then he presses a light kiss to her temple, “You’re not going to remember this when you sober up, and that’s okay. I’ll just tell you again and again, as many times as you need.”

She smiles at him, the drugs hitting her hard again, “Stay?”

“For as long as you want me, sarad. Promise.”

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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rivatar · 1 month

Text

Neteyam who?

(Pt. 2 to Good Luck Finding Better)

Based off this request!

Pairing: Dilf Jake Sully x fem omatikaya reader

Warnings: HEAVY SMUTTT, darkish Jake?(rougher than the previous part), p in v, oral, spitting in face, dom Jake, creampie, a lil face smacking, lots of dirty talk, think that’s it but lmk if I missed anything

W/c: 2.8k

A/n: hey y’all, sorry this took longer than I wanted it to but schools been kicking my ass. I hope you all and the anon who requested this enjoys!! Dilf Jake is my guilty pleasure 😈😈

As the sun rose the next day, you slowly blinked your eyes open. You immediately felt soreness in your muscles, especially in a particular region between your legs. Then the realization dawned on you and you remember what happened last night. You wondered if it was a dream or if it really happened. You gasped as you noticed the cum seeping out of your hole onto the bed and decided that was enough evidence to confirm you weren’t dreaming.

You stayed alone in your hut for 2 hours, refusing to go into the village and overthinking last nights’ events. What were you gonna say to Jake now? Or Neteyam? Nothing would ever be the same! You fucked your Olo’eyktan, a whole married man! And he was your best friends dad, to make matters worse. You felt shame and wished you knew what to do.

By now you were hungry and it was well past breakfast time. You had to leave sometime, you couldn’t just stay in here forever. So you begrudgingly got yourself ready and tried to clean the mess between your legs. You were fearful everyone would be able to smell exactly who left their seed in you. So you tried to cover it up by dabbing your strongest smelling oil that you had on your inner thigh. It would have to work.

Just as you were about to walk out of the door and face your fears, a familiar face appears. And speak of the devil, it’s Jake.

He was smiling mischievously down at you, and you just looked up at him angrily and crossed your arms.

“Get out of here.” You demand sharply.

“Excuse me?” He scrunches his eyebrows in confusion and tilts his head to the side, scanning you over with his intense gaze. Part of you wants to cower but you kept going.

“Last night was a mistake,” you explained, “I was in a vulnerable state and you knew it.” You said as you poked his chest hard with your pointer finger. “And now I’ve probably lost my best friend because of you.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jake holds his hands up to stop you. “If I remember correctly, that skxawng rejected you and I came to make you feel better. To which you had seemed to thoroughly enjoy,” he cockily smirked and you blushed, looking away with a pout. “Why are you mad at me and not my son?”

“Because he means more to me than you do! You’ve ruined everything!” You yell at him without thinking.

He suddenly grabs your neck with one hand and brings you closer to his face. Your breath caught in your throat and you struggled to balance on your tippy toes.

“Watch your tone, girl. Don’t forget I’m still your leader” he lowly speaks, his hot breath was fanning over your face and causing your thighs to clench together.

“Fuck you.” you manage to spit out.

He lowly chuckles and seems to be amused. “You already did that, honey.”

You bare your teeth at him, it made you so angry he was taking this so lightly and nearly mocking you like this was some kind of joke.

“Let me the fuck go!” You choke out harshly, still barely touching the ground with your tip toes to hold you up, both your hands gripping his arm to help hold you up so you wouldn’t actually choke.

His smile grows bigger. He seemed to like having so much power over you.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he faked like he was actually thinking, “I think you look so pretty like this.” You fought and wiggled as much as you could, but it was to no avail. “You’re a feisty one, ain’t ya? I never knew that about you.” He muses.

Then something came over you as you decided you’d heard enough of him, and with no thought you spit in his face.

You surprised yourself more than you surprised him it seemed like. Your jaw drops at what you just did and he just blinks once. Most of it landed on his mouth and to your absolute horror he licks it up and groans in appreciation.

“Mmm you taste so good, baby.” He tenderly smiles and you look at him in disbelief. The bass in his voice and his vulgar display lights something inside of you.

He gathers the rest of your spit off his face on two fingers and puts it to your mouth, beckoning you to open and pushing his fingers inside.

“Suck.” He demands, still holding your neck with his other hand but he sets you lower so you’re back on your heels now at least.

You didn’t know why you listened to him, but you did. Maybe it was his authority, or maybe because you felt yourself heating up and loosing your resolve.

Once you sucked your own spit off his fingers he pulled them out. He was making intense eye contact with you to the point you couldn’t force yourself to look away, almost like you were hypnotized.

“Good, now swallow.” You did as you were told with no hesitation. It was like your body answered to him before your mind could tell you not to.

You stuck out your tongue to show your empty mouth. “Good fucking girl,” he said while lightly smacking your cheek a few times.

“You still wanna go talk to Neteyam?” He asks, feigning innocence and mocking you.

You shook your head no, the desperation in your eyes from him getting you riled up was obvious to him but he liked teasing you.

“Good. Get on your knees” he demands roughly.

You were a little surprised at his straightforwardness but you obeyed and sank down to your knees before him.

He gracefully unties his loincloth and his full erect cock springs up right in front of your face. You didn’t get to see it this close up last night but now you’re noticing how pretty it is. Long and girthy, sprinkled with tiny bioluminescent freckles all the way up to the dark purplish tip.

“Open up for me, pretty” he rasps while rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip.

Once again you do as your told, your body fully submitting to him. You stick your tongue out and he places his dick on it, tapping it a few times. You lick and swirl your tongue around his tip as he lets out a pleased sigh while his body relaxes. You close your lips around him and he places his hands on your head to tug you closer and take more of him.

“Think I need to fuck this pretty mouth, how’s that sound?” You moan in response and he pushes your head hard, making you take almost his entire length and you gag.

He chuckles while you choke on him. “Yeah, this bratty mouth just needed to be stuffed with some cock, that’s all” He groans and tosses his head back while feeling your tight throat sucking him in.

You were already a mess, spit running down your face and neck, and tears welled up in your eyes. He picked up his pace and now held your head in place as he thrusted himself into your mouth. You couldn’t do anything but just take it. You focused on breathing through your nose and relaxing your throat, trying not to gag.

“Oh fuck-“ he whimpered and bit his lip trying to suppress his moans. “Shit that’s good. You’re doing so fucking good for me,” he praised as he felt himself coming near.

Your nails were digging into his smooth thighs and your throat was stinging at this point but you honestly couldn’t get enough of him. Your lower belly was warm and had butterflies.

“Gonna cum in your throat and you’re gonna swallow it all, okay?” He panted.

You felt his body stiffen and his cock twitch before you felt the warm ropes of cum spilling in your mouth. It felt warm and smooth like honey and you greedily took it all.

He pulled out of your mouth once he finished and smiled proudly at you.

“Good girl, that’s what a good slut does. You learn so quick,” he said while grabbing your face and placing a sloppy smooch on your lips.

He graciously grabbed a small towel to wipe your tear stained face and the sticky drool off your body. You smiled deliriously up at him.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I haven’t forgotten about you,” he grins. “Bet that lil pussy feels so neglected right now, huh?”

You nod your head and could hardly wait any longer.

“Nuh uh, need to hear you say it. What do you need?” He asks while petting your hair as you were still on your knees.

“Need you! Need you and your cock, please” you outright begged like he wanted.

“Please what?”

“Please.. sir?”

“Mhmm. Atta girl,” Jake praised.

He crouched down to your level and started crawling to tower over you. Your eyes were glued on his lips and he seemed to understand since he connected your lips in a heated kiss. He felt warm and tasted sweet and earthy.

He guided you to lay all the way down and you felt his rough hands start exploring, first just on your arms but then he couldn’t help himself from touching your tits.

Slipping under your top he kneaded one of your breasts, still holding himself over you with his other hand. He slightly moaned into your kiss at the contact and then pinched your nipple, making you break the kiss.

“Mmm” you hummed and threw your head back in pleasure.

“Yeah? Is that it?”

You bit your lip trying not to sound too desperate but still shook your head yes, begging him with your eyes. He took that as more than enough permission to keep doing it how you liked. He shifted to balance on his knees and his other hand wasted no time by going to knead your other breast that was left out.

“So, so perfect,” he whispered admirably.

Then with no warning he ripped your top off, beads flying everywhere. Normally you would’ve been upset about the damage of your precious clothing but right now you couldn’t care less.

“This needs to go too,” he said while yanking off your loincloth. It kinda hurt, but again, you weren’t in your right mind at the moment. And he was clearly getting impatient.

“Fuck” he breathed while eyeing your form. “Pretty. So fucking pretty” he rubbed your leg gently, quite contradictory to his former display of roughness.

Deciding to take the lead now, you opened your legs up for him. You were propped up on your elbows so this position was picture-perfect, and Jake did indeed wish he had a camera for your pornographic pose.

He was practically salivating over you but he wasn’t gonna let you get the upper hand. Snapping out of it, he looks at you devilishly like he was gonna devour you whole. You notice his cock is already fully hard again. Fuck, he’s good you admitted in your head.

Your pussy was a mess, your juices coating your lips and running down your ass.

“Jake, please” you begged.

He stopped ogling you and practically pounced onto you. He stole your lips in a hungry kiss and God, you loved the way he tasted too. You fought for dominance with your clashing of tongues but of course he wins with his larger mouth. He was shoving his tongue far into your mouth trying to get everything he could take from you. And you let him.

You whimpered as your heart rates increased and the thrill was like no other. Yeah, you loved Neteyam as your best friend but Eywa, his dad made you feel like you were flying.

All that could be heard was heavy breathing because neither of you wanted to stop. Then you felt his five-fingered hand slide down to rub your inner thigh and you thought you could almost cum right then. It was dizzying and made your body feel fuzzy.

He finally stopped teasing around the area and touched you where you wanted him the most. You both gasped at the contact.

“Damn,” he breathed while coating his fingers in your slick, “Needy little thing”

He pushed his middle finger in your sopping cunt and it slid in easily. You moaned and looked at him.

He started finger fucking you and gained a rhythm, then slid in another digit to add to the stretch.

You closed your eyes shut and were making so many little sounds that he loved. He also loved the sight of you squirming in pleasure.

“Watch it” he gruffed

You obeyed his request and turned your eyes to the sinful scene. He had you spread wide open and was pistoning his two big fingers into you like there was no tomorrow, hitting all your sweet spots so perfectly. It was so good you were struggling to get any sounds out as your mouth stayed open in a silent scream.

You felt your impending orgasm coming quickly. He seemed to have picked up on this as he started rubbing your clit in circles, making your climax rip through you.

“JAKEEE” you screamed and arched your back as it wracked through your entire body, toes curling and grabbing his dreads for support.

“Fuck yes. Fuckkkk yes!” he praised as he kept pumping you with one hand and lightly spanking your clit with the other, prolonging your orgasm.

You slowly came down from it, panting and a bit dizzy. Your eyes looked heavy.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, I ain’t done with you yet, babe” he said while manhandling you to flip you over on all fours. You could barely hold yourself up on your arms as you felt tired so you slumped down on your face, ass up in the air.

“Now ain’t this a pretty sight,” Jake chuckled from behind you. You felt his tip prodding at your entrance that was still soaked from your arousal and orgasm.

With no warning he slammed himself inside.

“OH!!” You shot up, the intrusion catching you off guard.

“Had to get you awake somehow,” he laughed. “Now take this cock until I cum in your little pussy”

Before you could say anything he slid all the way out and slammed back in. Your eyes were almost popping out of your head at the fullness. He had to be in your stomach, you thought to yourself.

He grabbed onto your ass cheeks for leverage to pull you back onto him, setting a brutal pace. The skin slapping could probably be heard from the village.

“You feel so good.. such a good slut for me”

You clenched around him at his degrading comment.

“Oh yeah? You like being a lil whore? That’s all you are, hm?” he growled clenching his teeth, already lost in the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him.

You moaned and whimpered below him, taking every inch of his dick.

“Bet you’d probably like Neteyam to see you getting fucked again” he taunted and you once again squeezed him tight as confirmation to his statement, “Yeah, I know,” he laughed, “it’s funny, ‘cause you try to act all innocent for everyone else. If only they could see you now”

You were hearing every word but truly didn’t care. Not right now, not when his dick was blissfully pounding your cervix and you feel another orgasm rolling in.

“Pleaseee” you whined.

“Please, what? One cock not enough for you?” he teased and smacked your ass.

“It is! Just please don’t stop!”

He sped up and thrusted harder into you.

“You gonna cum? Yeah you better cum for me,” he panted, feeling himself approaching his own high.

And just like that the coil in your lower tummy snapped. You cried out in ecstasy and he ate every bit of it up, boosting his ego.

“That’s it, baby” he cooed.

Then he felt his rip through him. “Gonna fill you up- fuck!” He whimpered “you won’t ever be able to get my smell off of you,” he promised while riding his out, his groans and little whimpers between words.

“This pussy is mine,” He made sure to milk out every last drop of his seed inside your pussy. He wanted to own you and mark you as his, so no other men could have you. He slipped his dick out carefully, making sure to not overstimulate you.

You were both fucked out beyond belief so you laid limp and he grabbed another towel to clean you up first, and then himself.

You smiled weakly at him and he smiled smugly in return. “So you gonna take back what you said earlier about wanting me to leave or do you like my company now?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and scooted back against him where you were laying down. “Shut up” you yawned.

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @professional-yapper @bambithewriter @nonamevenus @jakesullyfatjuicypeen

#avatar smut #dilf jake sully x reader #dilf jake sully #atwow jake sully #avatar #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #james cameron avatar #jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #dilf jake sully smut #jake sully x you

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