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#he looks like a spy kitten here
ceirinen · 3 months
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January 2024
I'm so glad that 2023 ended... I hope this year is so much better for everyone.
I didn't expect last month's list to be well received. I just wanted to show my admiration and gratitude to all those incredible writers. So there was no need to thank me for being included in the list, since recommending your stories is the least I can do as a reader.
Your writing is wonderful. Some of the things I've read this month have left me speechless, I didn't expect to find in a fic the quality of something that should be published instead.
Thank you for sharing your stories, for dedicating your time to writing, and for offering readers (for free) these masterpieces.
You can find the previous list here.
(If you are in this list and don't want to be in it let me know, please).
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Like a good neighbor... | Cillian Murphy x fem!Reader by @cillianmesoftlyyy Cut the shit-delusion, sweetheart | Cillian Murphy x fem!Reader by @cillianmesoftlyyy Shut if off! | Cillian Murphy x Reader by @darlingsfandom No fucking way | Cillian Murphy x Reader by @cillspropertea A welcome surprise | Cillian Murphy x Reader by @garrison-girl-08
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THOMAS SHELBY
Calling him pretty | Thomas Shelby x Reader by @darlingsfandom Not a virgin anymore | Tommy Shelby x Reader by @your-nanas-house Curses, spirits and other things nor to believe in | Thomas Shelby x OC by @dearshelby What really makes a family | Thomas Shelby x Reader by @dearshelby Nice face | Thomas Shelby x Reader by @dearshelby Missing | Thomas Shelby x Reader by @fallatyourfeet Winter light | Tommy Shelby x Reader by @fallatyourfeet Of bending and breaking | Tommy Shelby x Reader by @call-sign-shark He wouldn't dance with me | Tommy Shelby x Reader by @acewritesfics Fireflies | Tommy Shelby x Reader by @acewritesfics Always with me | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader by @look-at-the-soul Twelfth night | Tommy Shelby x OC by @evita-shelby
ALFIE SOLOMONS
Reddish marks | Alfie Solomons x Reader by @dearshelby Fuckin' irreplaceable | Alfie Solomons x Reader by @fallatyourfeet It's bloody three o'clock in the mornin' | Alfie Solomons x Reader by @fallatyourfeet How I met my dad (Cyril) by @raincoffeeandfandoms Afraid of everyone | Alfie Solomons x Reader by @pacifymebby
ARTHUR SHELBY
Thunder storms | Arthur Shelby x Reader by @pacifymebby People like us | Arthur Shelby x fem!Reader by @red-riding-wood Ruined | Arthur Shelby x fem!Reader by @red-riding-wood
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Christmas together | Patricia "Kitten" Braden x fem!Reader by @your-nanas-house Truly smitten | Patricia "Kitten" Braden x shy!fem!Reader by @your-nanas-house I'll be your girl | Kitten Braden x Reader by @wutheringcaterpillar
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The ward | Jonathan Breech x fem!Reader by @cillianmesoftlyyy
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Miracle | Robert Capa x physicist!fem!Reader by @aurorag98
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Little spy | Leonard "Lenny" Miller x fem!Reader by @aurorag98 Love of his life | Lenny Miller x younger!Reader by @aphroditeslover11
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Just a little kiss | Emmett x Reader by @beastofburdenxo Quiet | Emmett x fem!Reader by @cillmequick
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Hiding here inside a dream | Robert Fischer x OC by @emotionalcadaver
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195 notes · View notes
justcressida · 9 months
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ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- DEAR SAİNTESS
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"I was granted the death I desperately longed for, only to be caught up in a second life no different than the first. And yet, here I am, doing everything I can to stay alive."
Record Of Ragnarok X Rudbeckia De Borgia! Reader
PS: I'm a foreigner okay? Language problems. Part 2?
A beautiful smile, a radiant gaze, and a gentle aura. No matter what, just smile and pass. You've done just that all your life, and your end hasn't changed yet.
While your desire for death was never ending, when you finally died, you were somehow resurrected with all of humanity. for Ragnarok.
LOKİ
Okay, you were too weird even for someone like him. He was just bored and wanted to mess with mortals, but...
Why are you smiling? He wanted you to be scared or raging, but there you are, with a gentle smile on your face. Yet that master of lies saw your trembling hands no matter how well you played.
Maybe it was meant to be enjoyed, but... Did it really scare you that much?
Okay, he hadn't had the fun he wanted, and the rage of Humanity's first victory was still running through his veins, but somehow you got his attention.
I mean, come to think of it, what mortal would smile at someone who tormented him so much?
Out of sheer curiosity, he chased after you and started spying on you.
And he saw the scars on his back. Whip marks, stab marks.
How did you have so many wounds when even a warrior didn't have that many wounds?
Moreover, Ragnarok had resurrected humanity in its most wonderful period.
Was this your greatest period?
With your pretty face and those horrible scars on your body?
He was obviously extremely intrigued, and Loki's curiosity is obsession.
He will solve the mystery of this beautiful mortal.
THOR
Although too busy a man to care for a mortal, Thor was quick to discover Loki's new obsession.
Is it a mortal? Really Loki?
Still, he couldn't help being caught up in this beautiful mortal. The mortal's bright beautiful eyes, shapely face, bright lips, and beautiful hair.
Still, he doesn't understand why this mortal has such a bad reputation. No matter how beautiful mortal she was, everyone looked at this beautiful woman with disgust.
Thor doesn't like to go undercover like Loki, so he'll talk directly to your face.
"Who are you mortal?"
In fact, he said it without expression, too much even for a mortal.
Still, the hammer in his hand, his tall stature and intimidating gaze didn't help at all.
You tried to smile, unable to stop yourself from shaking like a kitten.
"Uh- d-did I do something wrong?"
Your kind words even though you tremble like a kitten, your attempt to smile despite the fear, and most of all your beautiful voice.
He had heard that this beautiful mortal was famous for his voice, but this velvety tone of voice softened his cold heart.
"What's your name, mortal?"
"Well m-my name is Y/N."
Y/N.
A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.
Maybe, Thor thought. Maybe this beautiful mortal isn't as bad as rumors.
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chikaras-garden · 1 year
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Patience
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Your boyfriend finds out that you’re secretly working for a rival mafia family. It’s only right that he teaches you a lesson for spying on him.
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Pairing: mafia!Kuroo x fem!reader
Words: 2.4k
Contains: dubcon, mafia!Kuroo, dom!Kuroo, mean!Kuroo, brat!reader, fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, sex as punishment, roughness, manhandling, desk sex, K calls R “kitten,” “little girl,” and “naughty girl”
Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked, also on ao3
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“You’re lucky I’m patient.”
Tetsuro stands in the doorway of the office—his office. You’re not sure how long he’s been there, but you’re certain he just caught you digging through papers on his desk, on top of the fact that you’re not even supposed to be in here at all. Ever. That was rule number one of being with him, not that you ever had any intention of following it. 
You involuntarily gasp, stuffing the papers in your hands behind your back. His eyes lazily glance between your hidden arms and your face; somewhere between the quirk of his eyebrow and downturn of his lips, you know you’re caught.
Closing your eyes, you expect to be yelled at. Thrown out of the room. Locked away. Worse. That’s what other men you’ve dealt with—done this to—would have done to you, anyway.
But, Tetsuro’s voice is even, only clouded by the shadow of disappointment.
Suddenly, that voice is right next to the shell of your ear. What he says sends electricity down your spine, sends the papers falling to the floor, sends your fingers reaching for his chest. “I wasn’t told you were going to misbehave.”
You feel his arms cage you in, one hand on either side of your hips, fingers drumming on the solid wood of his desk. He doesn’t touch you. He won’t do it, he never has, and that stirs something in between frustration and need in your stomach.
“Look at me.”
His hazel eyes are dark and analytical, tinted by the shroud of catching the one woman he’s let into his life in the act of betraying him. Your lips part, trembling, and it isn’t his rage, sadness, or bloodlust that channels fear into you.
It’s his complete lack of them.
“So you steal information from me, pass it off to…” when you don’t answer, he sighs, the first sign of his real annoyance at you, as if you’re no more bothersome than a delayed train. “...whoever you’re working for, not that the list of people who’d want to screw me over is short.”
Tetsuro tilts his head, and his voice follows to the shell of your other ear, his breath grazing your cheekbone. He speaks quietly, every syllable so perfectly measured to show you that he’s in control. It’s eerie, and you swallow hard at the realization.
“Then what, kitten? Did you think you were smart enough that I’d never find out?”
You let out a shuddering breath while your eyes slip closed again. This close, you smell his cologne: it’s cold, but still burns your nose—peppermint and sage. You tilt your head back, baring your neck to him like an offer: Does he dare to take it?
“Fuck,” he whispers, realizing what you’re thinking as soon as it crosses your mind. “You just wanted my attention, didn’t you?”
Caught both in the act and with your true intentions, you nod.
He starts laughing.
It starts with a chuckle that fights its way out of his chest, but it swiftly melts into real laughter more genuine than you’ve ever heard from him. Your eyes fly open, and you spot a mean, self-satisfied grin. But, behind that, you see eyes ablaze with an echo of the need swirling in your stomach.
Your toes curl. Every layer of clothing you’re wearing is starting to feel hot, like it’s burning. You reach a hand back, fingers extending behind you until they touch skin: his skin, which burns as hot as yours.
He stares at you with an intensity that would scare anyone else, but you’ve grown accustomed to his nuances. “Gonna have to make you regret this, you know.” 
Oh, you know. And you’re hoping he makes good on that threat in ways that surprise the very excitable imagination you’ve been developing since the moment you met him. So, you egg him on. “Are you sure you’re the right man for the job? I mean, I did get this far…”
Before you can finish, he grabs you by the hips and hoists you on top of his desk, paperwork be damned. You’re stunned threefold: first by his strength, second by his speed, and third by his lips capturing yours while your mouth is still open, ready to accept his tongue.
This kiss is more intoxicating than anything you’ve ever felt before. Your head swims, and you reach for him to tether yourself to this Earth before the feeling of him sends you straight to the moon. Your fingers wind into his hair, and you tug without thinking. Just that little action, so innocent compared to all the ways you’ve thought about him, makes him moan into your mouth.
His fingers, long and roughed up by who knows what, make quick work of your clothes. Shirt, up and over your head. Bra, tossed across the room. Skirt, pooled on the floor. Panties, dangling from your ankle. You thought removing clothes would make you feel better, cool you off, keep your head on straight, but the air in Tetsuro’s office burns hot with your need for more, more, more.
You need him to give you what you want. He needs you to make him do so, evidently.
“Tetsuro,” you whine, fighting against the kisses he places to the corner of your mouth. “Tetsuro, please, please.”
His hands massage into the soft skin of your thighs, spreading you wide so he can fit easily in between them. There’s an unforgiving gap between your pussy and his still-clothed dick; though it must only be as wide as your fist, it feels like it’s a whole ocean across, like you can’t just reach out and bring him to you.
“Naughty girls don’t get what they want.” Although he’s teasing you, his chest rises and falls with heavy panting. It’s a struggle to keep up with what his body wants to do to you, what your body demands of him. He kisses down your throat, your collarbone, the top of your chest—and you whine in response to his snail’s pace.
“I can earn it.” Your beg is heard by interested ears; you can practically see him perk up at the suggestion, glancing up at you through dark eyelashes. “I’ll do anything.”
For several beats, he ignores you. You watch him fight against his own willpower, and you realize—while his eyes dart from your lips to your hands to between your legs—that you don’t need to hear him say it to know that you’ve won. He hides his concession in another ravenous kiss; this time, his hands find your breasts and mercilessly squeeze, making you mewl and invite his tongue back into your mouth.
His hands feel like fire consuming your skin, making you shake from head to toes. You’ve never been with him like this, but you’ve imagined it, and you know you want it. And, in fact, your imagination doesn’t come close to the real deal.
He grips one of your thighs, holds your leg around his waist, angling you so he can get a view of your folds that makes him sigh. It’s a breathy sound unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him before; when you try to lean into him, try to give him a kiss of your own, his free hand presses against your chest.
“Stay still, would you?” He tuts, feigning annoyance that’s softened by the smirk on his lips. Then, he whispers a betrayal of the act he’s been putting on. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”
Then, he reaches for your folds, wasting no time in thumbing at your clit. You bite your lip; though he doesn’t physically hold you back anymore, you stay where he put you, telling yourself that it’s just because this angle makes the shapes he’s tracing on your clit feel even better. Indignantly, you ignore the voice in your head that’s whispering about being good for him. Proving yourself. Earning what you want.
“Oh,” he groans while your pussy swallows two of his fingers all the way to the third knuckle; he’s not even trying. “This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Hips twitching, trying to brush your clit against the palm of his hand, you nod. Tetsuro leans his forehead against yours and chuckles, a sound that makes you shiver from how close it is; he still isn’t looking at you, not really. He’s looking down, captivated by the way his fingers sink into you.
Testing your balance, you lift one hand to grip his shoulder. He doesn’t move, not even to acknowledge your touch, so you dance your fingers across his collarbone, down his chest, all while your own breathing grows heavier and heavier. You’re certain you’re a mess, and you think it’s wildly unfair that you’re the only one.
So, your trembling hands make clumsy work of his shirt buttons. The thin white fabric feels like silk under your hands, soft and supple, something you’d love to rub your face all over if it wasn’t currently in your way. Every button undone, you get a glimpse of the sculpted chest underneath; you end up so distracted, eyeing him hungrily, that you miss the fact that his fingers have stilled inside you.
Until they pull almost all the way out, making you gasp, and plunge all the way back in, curling upward in a way that makes you cry out. With an almost-literal snap of his fingers, you’re on the edge of a high you weren’t sure he’d let you have.
A sudden fear crosses your mind. With wide eyes, you look up at him, only to find him looking back with a wild, starving gaze. 
“T-Tetsuro,” you keen, “wanna come.”
“Wanna come?” he mocks, curling his fingers in the same way again. You start to slump forward, wiggling your hips, but he grasps your shoulder to keep you an arm’s length away, in perfect view for him. “Think you deserve it?”
“Please!” you beg. You don’t care what you have to do or say to get it. Tetsuro’s fingers feel so good, and you’ll be damned if you let him ruin this orgasm for you.
You think you hear a mutter of “alright, girl, alright,” not unlike he’s talking to a stray cat mewling at him for scraps of food. The metaphor isn’t lost on you: you do, in fact, feel something like a starving animal while his fingers pick up the pace. He fucks you into his palm until release crashes over you, feeling like the best, biggest, finest meal you’ve eaten in months.
Shuddering, you breathe something that sort of resembles his name, incomplete syllables tumbling out of your lips while you wrap yourself around him. His fingers linger inside of you, and you feel his eyes on you, watching, waiting. For what? You don’t know—you don’t care. With his free arm, he holds you against his chest, and you welcome the comforting sear of his bare skin against your cheek.
Seconds pass, and then you hear, “Alright. That was one.”
Your eyes flutter open. Delirious, you murmur, “One?”
He doesn’t entertain you with a response. Instead, he pulls his fingers away from you to shrug his shirt all the way off and, before you can complain about the absolute void between your legs, you hear the soft clink of metal on leather.
Trousers slide down his thighs. He steps out of them, closer to you, and leans over you; he’s tall, so tall that it’s too easy for him to collect your wrists in one hand while he lays you back on his desk.
Ironically, the papers you were trying to steal are right underneath your cheek.
He holds your wrists loosely in one hand, presses them against the tabletop above your head. His grip is loose, like a warning: just try fighting, and see what happens. You catalog the idea for another day.
He angles his hips in a way that has the tip of his cock brushing against your wet, puffy folds. He hisses—or maybe you do, or maybe you both do. There’s a brief moment of eye contact where you notice need and selfishness in his gaze. Lowly, he says, “Remember, kitten, this is supposed to be your punishment.”
And then, he sheaths himself inside you. He’s neither fast, nor slow; he moves at the pace he wants, ignoring the wriggling of your hips and strangled little noises coming out of your throat. He’s as big as you imagined, big enough to stuff you fuller than your fingers or toys ever could. Your eyes fall closed as you resign yourself to enjoying the stretch, the lude sounds of cock plunging into leftover come, and the rhythmic roll of his hips driving into you.
You moan his name as soon as you feel another high mounting within you; it’s shameful how quick it rushes in, sneaking up on you. 
He bends forward and presses sloppy kisses to the sides of your chest. The more you strain, heavy breaths struggling against the weight of him, the harder he kisses. In short order, lips turn to teeth, and he’s biting, bruising your breasts while his cock pounds into you. He marks you as his, claims you, brands you like a punishment for “forgetting” who you belong to.
Tetsuro’s cock buried deep inside you, his lips attached to your chest, you’re not sure when one orgasm ends and the next begins. All you know is he has you coming again and again until the room spins around you. You’re dizzy, blissed, panting, whimpering, and writhing underneath his iron grip on your wrists.
You twist your hips, searching for a moment of reprieve, just a second to catch your breath, but he responds with a grunt and an upward thrust that makes you cry out. “Don’t be difficult, kitten. You wanted to be taught a lesson? Here it is.”
“Said you’d do anything,” he mumbles, but it’s so quiet that it’s almost drowned out by the sound of skin slapping skin. He’s deep, so deep, too deep. You can’t focus, can’t think, can barely feel anything except his cock plunging into you, kissing your cervix with every thrust. 
“Tetsuro,” you whimper. “I-it…’s too much, please…”
“Patience, little girl,” he warns through gritted teeth. “I’m making you…regret trying to betray me…remember?”
You find it in you to put up a little bit of a fight. Heart pounding, head light and fuzzy, you squeeze his hips with your thighs, trying to put a few inches of distance in between you. Slow down, your mind chants; slow down. You want him. You want a break. Your stomach begins to coil again, and you let out a pitiful, broken moan.
Tetsuro laughs breathlessly, then picks up the pace, making you cry out with another orgasm. “Good—Good girl. I’m done with you when I say so.”
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marthawrites · 1 year
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Beneath the Prince Regent
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Aemond Targaryen x fem reader
Word count: 2.6k+
Can be read as a one shot, but reads best as part 2 to Midnight Passage
About: After your little disturbance in the Prince Regent's study, Aemond finally comes to bed.
Includes: Explicit sexual content! (the holy trinity of fingering, pussy eating, and p in v, with the continued theme of finger sucking)
Note: Hello lovely reader! No one asked for a part two to this, but you're getting it anyway because I'm self-indulgent and wanted to do it for myself. As always, please enjoy! ♥
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You looked so pretty sleeping in Aemond's bed he almost felt bad for waking you up. 
Almost.
Passed was the hour of the owl – when you'd disrupted him with your neediness and he released his spend on your face and chest – and the hour of the wolf wasn't quite here yet. It was a quiet space between. Dark. Eerie. The halls of the Red Keep were nearly hollowed of guards, for there were only a skeleton crew of them at this time of night.
The edge of Aemond's bed dipped slightly beneath his weight as he sat beside your sleeping form. With an affectionate tilt of his head he ghosted the backs of his fingers across your hairline, cheek, down your neck, and over the slope of your shoulder. How pretty you looked, truly, like a doll. From your shoulder he grazed down your arm until he reached your hand. There, he lifted it to lightly kiss the top. Low embers from his hearth barely illuminated the amused suspicion of his eye. Repeating the motion with your other hand, the prince regent found himself smiling all to himself.
There wasn't a trace of your arousal on either of your hands. Upon your departure he said he would know if you touched yourself; he wholly meant it.
You were always so good for him. His good, sweet girl. So pathetically patient for his praise and reward that you didn't give in to the beast of your arousal tonight, even as it thrashed and roared and snapped its hungry jaws.
No. Not you. Not his good girl.
Laying your arm gently where it previously rested, Aemond pushed the blanket off your body and reveled in the sight of it only covered by his yesterday's shirt. Your thighs looked impossibly soft below the hem; warm and inviting. He pushed one palm up them, the pressure slow and steady, until his fingertips brushed the top of your smallclothes. He bent his head to kiss your jaw. Your neck. That little spot behind your ear. 
Finally, you stirred. 
"Wake up byka kēlītsos little kitten," he whispered in your ear, his breath tickling the sensitive reflex there.
You hummed sleepily as your eyes fluttered open. "Aemond? You're finally here." Sleep clung heavy to your voice. "Unless I'm still dreaming…," you added with a satisfied sigh.
"I assure you I'm quite real," he replied with quiet mischief. "As is the hunger you woke in me earlier. I sat debating if you're an elaborate spy to distract me from my duties for longer than I care to admit." Fingertips slowly eased passed the ribbons of your smallclothe's waistband, tugging them loose.
Any other time you might have blushed with his words. Now, still groggy with slumber and his touch at your hips, you giggled softly and bit into your bottom lip. "I listened," you admitted, a shudder of excitement building up the back of your legs to the top of your spine. "Being under your blankets wasn't enough. I had to find your shirt, too."
"I know, sweet girl," he cooed, placing his free hand above your head for support; you were beneath him, caged by him, enveloped by him. His eye dragged up to your eyes from your mouth, his own curling with a proud smirk. "You did so well for me. How will I ever be able to scheme in my study without thinking of you kneeling like that?" The question edged with condescendence as his chiseled features oozed with silent taunts. 
Desire blazed to life with his attention. The ache of your needy core had finally relaxed, and now it returned with a vengeance as he slid your undergarment down the lines of your legs. "Please don't tease me. I can't handle it," you nearly stammered as another shudder ran up and down your spine. Goosebumps pebbled your skin. If he accused you of spying and witchcraft, he was the highest of sorcerers to put you under his spell of lust.
A soft hum came from his thoughtfully pressed lips, head tilting once again. The ends of his hair brushed over your neck and cheeks. "I don't think I will," he said before meeting your mouth in a kiss. "Do you want my fingers?" He asked against your lips, eye cast down to find yours barely open. The pads of his fingers brushed over your mound, testing you, teasing you, circling upwards until he reached your clit. 
If you could hear it you knew he could hear it. The lazy circles of his touch were echoed by tiny wet sounds from your cunt. You were already soaked. A hot blush burned your cheeks as your body craved him. "Yes."
"Spread your legs," he said, surprising you by removing his hand from your center and up to your mouth. "And open your mouth," he added, features glaring with a smirk.
You obeyed, gasping, hips immediately arching up to the memory of his touch.
One by one he pushed his fingers into your mouth. "Be a good girl and get them all slobbery, hm?" He pressed down on your tongue and twirled around the little muscle, coaxing saliva to collect around him. "There…"
One finger, easy. Two? Not bad. Three? A challenge, especially when he flexed and splayed them apart in the small confides of your maw. You gagged. It was when he pushed his pinky inside that you felt another gush of wetness collect in your exposed center. You pulled your shirt above your breasts and immediately squeezed over them: the need to be touched too great as your hips squirmed for any sort of friction. The soft mounds were marked by his bruises from this morning. 
His hand left your mouth and went right to your slickened folds. Middle finger sunk effortlessly into your saturated walls, the length of his digit lazily swirling around in you. A soft growl rumbled in his tightened throat. "I don't think you could be any wetter," he said huskily, voice graveling over your senses in the best ways. "Been thinking about this since you left," he added as his index finger joined his middle in your heat.
A broken moan escaped your throat. Your eyes unfocused, lids fluttering, body wrapping around his digits. You started to mumble something up at him until his thumb circled your clit. He grazed over it and replaced whatever you were going to say with a sweet moan that jolted right to his cock. Those sounds only increased as he began to pump in and out of you. Squelches were all the more obvious in his quiet room. "F-uck..! Yes! Please don't stop…"
Unable to resist the way your tits bounced in sync with his movements, he dipped his head to catch your nipple and sucked at the pebbled flesh. He hummed around his mouthful. He released it only to repeat it to your other, fingers and thumb never easing with their lovely assault.
You arched your breasts up into him, gasping at the new waves of sensation tingling beneath your skin. He kissed, licked, and sucked over your chest, fingers curling up inside you in tandem. "Fuck!" You panted, warmth and tightness knotting in the low muscles of your belly. "I'm close! Please keep going… feels so good…," you whined, desperate.
"Give your pleasure to me. I want it, byka kēlītsos. I need it. Soak my fingers. Soak these fucking fingers." His voice was soft, hushed, raspy with his own need. He slipped a third in.
You came undone beneath him. Orgasm rushed through your muscles and flooded your blood with the utmost pleasure. You squirmed, grounding yourself to the moment by gripping onto whatever part of him you could reach. The bliss was so high, and your mind so momentarily clouded, that you didn't even realize he slid down the bed until you felt him. "A-Aemond..!" You cried, hands flying down to his head between your thighs.
His tongue dragged up, and over, and across your clit, kissing and sucking at your pearl while his fingers remained inside you. "I love when you're swollen here like this," he panted up at you, his eye black with desire. He lost the eyepatch on the way down and his sapphire glimmered up at you. Handsome mouth wrapped around your little bud again and he pumped in and out of your cunt with a renewed pace.
With him lavishing you so soon after your peak, your body was deliciously sensitive and he was perfectly relentless with his pleasure. Your hands in his hair didn't deter him. Your fingernails on his scalp and his ears didn't make him flinch away. If anything it all seemed to spur him on even more. Even as you rolled, squirmed, and twitched under him, his pressure or pace never wavered. Greed for your bliss clouded his mind. The combined sounds of your approaching peak, along with his lapping, sucking, and contented sighs, made for an obscene symphony of carnal delights.
"You're close," he groaned up at you, free hand palming and squeezing over your breasts. "Gonna soak my chin like you did my fingers?" He asked, eye glinting.
"Mhm," you mumbled as he went back to your pearl, tongue gentle on the sensitive little thing. He pinched and tugged at your nipples and it was the sweet edge of pain that pushed you over for a second time. Your thighs replaced your hands at the sides of his head. You barely covered your mouth in time to muffle your cries of pleasure; you had to be quiet in Aemond's room. Warmth, and tingles, and lightheadedness rushed over you as you melted into his mattress.
He allowed your body to relax before slipping his fingers free, standing up. "One day I will allow an artist to watch you reach peak so they might be able to recreate your likeness. You're so lovely like this. Blushed, and sprawled out, and pleasure drunk," he said adoringly as he undressed.
"You'd let another man watch you fuck me?" You asked dreamily, the sweat atop your skin cooling. 
He laughed. "No. It'd be a woman. No other man is to ever see you like this." There was no humor behind his laugh or words. It might have sent a coil of darkness around another woman's gut, but not yours. You liked it.
A smile flashed across your face before you sat up to finally take your shirt off. You leaned back on your elbows. Looking up at him you tipped your head to the side, biting your lip. "Come here, my prince. Let me wrap my legs around your waist." Your legs bent up at the knees to playfully flash him where you wanted him to be. 
With a smirk, and as smooth as water, he crawled across the bed to you, cock bobbing. His lean hips fit easily between your thighs. You both groaned as he pressed the exposed tip of his cock against you. He teased your still sensitive bud – grinning despite his loosened jaw – before sliding himself lower to your eager opening. 
The resistance of your body made both of you shudder. He sunk into you further and further – your toes instantly curling – until the solid length of him was wholly engulfed by your saturated walls. No matter how many times he took you, the first push and stretch of him never failed to take your breath away. "Oh Gods, Aemond…," you drawled, head tipping backward.
"So fucking wet for me. Wetter than even this morning. How is that? Such a needy little cunt," he mocked, pushing his weight into you so his cockhead sent a bolt webbing throughout your senses. "How desperate you'd be without me…," he groaned, pulling out to snap back into you. "Only able to be satisfied by your prince's cock." He set a pace, now, the hair on the topside of his thighs rough against the smooth underside of your own.
"Yes! Just like that..!" You moaned, barely able to keep your eyes opened to meet his. Your ankles crossed behind his back and the heels of your feet dug into the firm curve of his ass. The flex of your legs wasn't tight enough to keep him from thrusting how he liked, but was enough to keep him close and there where you wanted him.
"You're going to have to be quieter. Can't have guards coming to see what the matter is, hm?" He asked in a hot whisper, a gutteral sound building in his throat at just how tight, wet, and fucking perfect you felt. "So loud. Filthy girl." He drove into you harder, skin slapping lewdly together. 
Your moans and cries of pleasure were beyond your control, then, body on the brink of yet another climax. You began to flex and contract around him. 
He grabbed your discarded shirt and balled it up, stuffing it over and into your mouth. Your eyes widened above it. He smirked once more. "If you can't be quiet then I'll make you be. Gonna soak my cock this time, byka kēlītsos?" He fucked you at a different angle, now, one hand keeping the shirt over your mouth while the other squeezed firmly at your bouncing tits.
You nodded, and whatever you had to say was muffled behind the cloth. It didn't matter; it would've been unintelligible as your third and final orgasm of the night washed over you. You crumbled beneath him, eyes rolling closed, as your thighs squeezed roughly around his middle. Your walls convulsed around him and the sound that ripped from his throat was enough to make you whimper under his hand. 
With a deep rolling groan and praise of your name, climax overtook the prince. Pleasure slackened his sharp jaw; pale brows melted in a way only sex could grant. His hips shuddered, cock twitching, as he stilled inside you. His breath was heavy as his hand eased from the lower half of your face. Finally, you were able to get a true lungful of air. Sweat glistened on both your bodies. He rarely looked more handsome than he did right now; spent, sated, and panting. 
You could lay with him like this forever. You were sure your expression said it, too, with how you gazed reverently up at him; face blushed, skin sheened, chest rising and falling.
"Mmm… you make me feel so good, byka kēlītsos." He eased out from your center and from between your legs. Grabbing his shirt he walked across the room where a basin of water sat atop a table near the fire. He dipped a portion of it and came back to you, offering the wet cloth.
"Thank you," you sighed contentedly. Despite him being in front of you, the image of him walking there and back, naked with his hair free and loose, played over and over until it branded on your memory.
"There's a couple hours left before dawn. Sleep with me. I want to hold you for awhile." His voice was thick with exhaustion. It'd been a long day and he'd spent himself multiple times since waking with you this morning. He laid on his back beneath the blankets, inviting you in.
After cleaning yourself, you replied, "happily, my prince. Sleep well." Smiling, you laid upon your side, head on his chest and legs tangled with his, with an arm draped over his abdomen. 
The last thing you remembered was his arm scooping around your back and his soft mouth kissing the top of your head.
-
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telekineticseance · 11 months
Text
FAMILY FRIEND (PT. 2)
Tumblr media
pairing: trey parker x f! reader
summary: you accidentally see something that maybe you shouldn't have - part two
genre: fluff..more kinda smut
word count: 1832
cw: age gap relationship (25f, 48m), reader is referred to by she/her pronouns, sad divorced trey, m!masturbation (i still hate that word), borderline voyeurism, basically spying as well
author's note: next part will probably be the last part so enjoy besties!
part one can be found here!
Your keys jingled as you unlocked the door, the sound of a piano playing filling your ears. You raised an eyebrow as you quietly shut the door behind you, walking quietly through the living room. You walked through the house to the music room, the one that hadn’t been touched since the passing of your mom a few years ago.
You slowly peeked through the door opening and saw Trey sitting at the piano, his fingers pressed down on the keys as he played an unknown melody. He hummed along before pulling away and writing stuff down on the paper in front of him, returning back to the keys shortly afterwards. You couldn’t help but watch in awe, trying to stay quiet as you watched.
The sound of the door squeaking slightly caused Trey to stop and quickly turn his head around. “I’m sorry.” You apologized, slipping inside the room, “I was trying to not interrupt.”
He grinned at you, shaking his head, “No it’s alright. I was just writing some music.” He told you, rotating himself on the bench to where he could face you better. You wondered why you found him attractive as he wore his clearly worn Broncos shirt with a pair of plaid pajama pants. His hair was a little messy, almost like a kitten after they get bathed by their mom’s.
“What are you writing?” You asked, walking over to the bench. He flipped back around, motioning to the paper and you sat down on the bench next to him, looking over the sheet music. He looked over at you as you scanned over the music, before he put his hands back on the piano, playing as you read along.
He mumbled some words softly as he played along and you listened, continuing to read over the music. The words he sang caused your chest to sink to your stomach, as you fought back the welling of tears. The lyrics talked about his past and present relationships and how he struggles with his own problems as well. It was a new side of Trey you had never seen before or even heard about.
“Trey..this is beautiful,” You tell him, he pauses with his fingers hovering over the keys as he looks at you. “You think so?”
You nod in response, “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with your wife.” He shrugged as he dropped his hands from the piano and fiddled with his fingers in his lap, “It happens. I just really thought that this one was the one…you know?” He asked, glancing over at you before returning his gaze back to his hands in his lap.
A soft sigh escaped your lips before you placed your hand over his, grasping onto them, “I get that…but you’ll get through it right? You’ve done it before and you can do it again. And who knows maybe your next girlfriend will be right around the corner.” You said, lightly stroking on his hand with your thumb.
He looked down at your hands giving a small grin and chuckling as he turned his gaze back to you, “You think so?” You gave him a nod, looking into his eyes, “I know so.” You gave him a small reassuring grin as he returned one back to you.
The two of you continued to sit in the silence for a moment, taking in one another’s company before Trey turned his attention back to the piano and you pulled your hand away from his and watched him continue to write his music.
Trey had convinced you to invite some friends over while he hung out in the guest room so you wouldn’t be hanging out with him all night. In his words, “You don’t wanna hang out with a depressed old man like me.” So while you hung out with some friends in the garage, Trey was inside doing whatever he decided to be doing.
“So Y/N…how’s things been going with Trey?” One of your friends asked in a sing-song voice. You rolled your eyes in response. It wasn’t the best kept secret from your friend group that you had a crush on Trey even though you found it embarrassing because while their “celebrity” crushes were people like Adam Driver or Taylor Swift, you not only chose one of the creators of South Park, but the one you knew personally.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said, taking a sip from your drink. They all laughed to themselves before turning back to you, “Oh come on like you haven’t thought about what to do while you two are alone for a week?”
You sat there for a moment, debating on telling the truth or lying. Because you had thought about what to do now that you were home alone with Trey. You thought about ditching your friends right now and just going to Trey’s room and telling him everything in hopes he’d strip you down and live out your fantasies right there. The thought went straight to your core as you tried to prevent yourself from being turned on anymore than you already had been since the morning when you saw Trey walking around shirtless.
You shrugged, “I mean obviously I’ve had thoughts. You know me. But to act on them? That’s entirely different. Plus he’s really upset about his divorce. Last thing he needs is a 25 year old professing their attraction to him.”
Scattered agreement happened across the room as your friends all murmured in agreement, sipping from their own drinks as they did so. You let out a soft sigh as you continued to let your mind run, wondering what Trey could be doing now. Was he still writing? Playing on his phone? Maybe he would be touching himself to the thought of you like how you would do with him? Although that last one seemed like a reach.
You and your friends continued to ramble about whatever came to mind, whether it be the latest movie that came out or the fact that these would be the last couple months together, since most of your friends would be graduating soon and moving back to their respective towns or states and while you thought about staying in Colorado, they were not.
You were always thinking about your career possibilities as well, but being a film major and living in a place like Colorado wasn’t easy. You thought about moving to someplace like New York or Los Angeles, maybe convincing Trey while he was here to give you a letter of recommendation so that you could find a good career in the business somewhere. Or getting on your knees and begging Trey to give you a spot in a writer’s chair at his job until you found something else so you weren’t ENTIRELY mooching off of him. Either way you knew it needed to be figured out quickly, especially with Trey going home in a week.
You started to tune out the sound of your friends conversing as your brain continued to think of Trey, over and over again. “I’m going to the bathroom,” You spoke as you stood up from your spot on the couch and walked through the door to go back into the house.
The house was dark and quiet, the only lights illuminating were a couple lamps in the living room and some others that led from the garage to the closest bathrooms so if needed, nobody would get lost.
You found your feet trudging you up the stairs to the outside of Trey’s door as you stood there, leaned up against the door frame. You noticed the door hadn’t been shut all the way, but it was shut enough to where there wasn’t a crack in between the door and the frame.
As you raised your hand to knock, you found your hand pausing once you heard the sound of heavy pants and groans. The sounds caused you to almost freeze entirely but you slowly leaned in, resting your ear against the door. You listened to the sounds of almost whimpers come from the other side, along with almost pornographic sounding squelches.
You lightly pressed against the door, trying to see if you could see what you thought was happening and your eyes widened at the sight behind the door.
Trey laid on the bed, his clothes lazily thrown on the floor next to him as he had a bottle of what looked to be your lotion next to the bed. When your eyes scanned over him you saw his head thrown back into the pillow, his right arm laying over his eyes as he bit his bottom lip. Your eyes trailed further down, looking at the sweat that ran down his torso, and the way his skin was starting to turn a dark pink shade. You were almost too scared to continue looking but couldn’t find the strength to pull away as your eyes traveled more down, the sound of his gasps still ringing in your ear.
When your eyes arrived on his left hand, you almost let out a gasp but quickly held back. His left hand was pumping along his length, moving up and down in an alternating pace between fast and slow as he continued pumping. His hips buckling against his hand as he did so, his lips parting from his bite so he’d let out a gasp. You watched him wipe beads of precum from the tip with his thumb as he would use it for more lubricant before going back to stroking himself.
“Hm fuck Y/N.” His name poured out of his mouth as your hand flew over your own. “M’gonna cum into that pretty little mouth of yours.” He said as your eyes widened to where if you let them widen anymore, they surely would’ve popped out of their socket. You tried to pry yourself away from watching but knowing he was touching himself to you, the way you exactly hoped he would, was making your center throb and heat up.
You watched as his tip twitched in his hands, and the liquid spilled out, spilling over the top and running down his cock and fingers. He bucked his hips as he rode out the high he reached, the one he imagined you brought him to. He let out a few pants, before he started shifting around.
You quickly removed yourself from the door frame before quickly walking back downstairs towards the garage where your friends sat.
The spot you were originally sitting in was taken so you found yourself sitting in a new spot, “That was a long piss.” One of your friends stated, breaking you from your thought process. You quickly shifted your attention back to them before clearing your throat, “Oh uh yeah sorry my dad called.” You lied before going back to your brain. Your brain in which the image of Trey just replayed over and over and over again.
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kooktrash · 2 years
Note
omg hi i was the one who sent in the spooky request 🫣 here it is again bby HAHA 💘:
could u please do yandere!neighbor taehyung x innocent reader where he helps her around the house a lot (chores, homework, etc) just so he can have an snoop around her things and spy on her. reader is also very innocent/naive and tae takes advantage of this by slowly corrupting her.
one day tae steals a spare key and makes it a nightly thing to visit reader and touch her while she’s sleeping. usually, he’s slick about it and even drugs her on some nights to make sure she stays asleep. until one day, reader wakes up in the middle of the night to tae in between her legs and u know the drill hehe the rest is up really up to u dear author 🖤✨
sickening love | kim taehyung
drabble: SMUT, DUBCON, SOMNOPHILIA [do not read if uncomfortable], oral sex [f recieving], manipulation, yandere Taehyung, breaks into y/n’s house, neighbor Tae, obsessed Tae, naive y/n, gaslighting, etc.
It had started with a knock at first. A simple and gorgeous smile on his face as he introduced himself to his new neighbor. Of course you hadn’t known that he was infatuated the day he saw you moving in exactly two months ago. It had been a slow, calculated first meeting. He had dressed in his best clothes, styled his hair more than usual, wore expensive perfume. All just to say hello to you. Now, he’s not sure if he could ever live without you. Who else would protect your nativity and corrupt your innocence? Surely not any of this so-called close friends of yours. The ones he’d grind his teeth at when one would sleep over and he’d have to leave. He snaked his way into your life by doing small favors for you. He learned your schedule early on, always making sure you ride in the elevator together every morning and afternoon. Of course you didn’t know he had no reason to do any of that. He does keep secrets from you but once you’re together he’ll be honest.
“I can’t do any more Tae, please can we take a break?” You asked one evening as he helped you with your homework. You were still in college, young and 21, too trusting that’s for sure. He was older but not by much, even if he acted like your caretaker and you let him. Why? Because you didn’t know how to be independent and Taehyung loved that. It was your first time living alone. Your life had always been sheltered not only by your parents but by friends too. You’d always had a sense of innocence around you. Too trusting because nobody in your life had ever done anything to deliberately hurt you and Taehyung would do the same. Taehyung basically forced himself into your everyday life and you hadn’t even realized it. Your friends told you it was strange but maybe you were naive and too trusting. Never being on your own you haven’t learned how to truly be independent so it was easy to depend on Taehyung, ultimately a stranger.
“You’re almost done sweetie, I can get you a little snack if you’d like,” he said with a little smile as he pet your head already moving to stand up. You were finishing up an exam on your laptop that you had been stalling till the last minute. Taehyung was the one who offered to help you since he’d taken the exact same quiz when he took the class in college. In truth though, he didn’t even attend the same university that you did when he was in school. He came back from the kitchen holding a plate of cut fruit and a glass of water. You reached for the fork but he got to it before you could and fed a piece to you. It went on like this until you finished your exam.
He helped you clear the table, a part of him realizing how domestic this all was and how he wanted to make you his already. But you’re like a kitten, if he gets too close so soon you’ll run away. He had to take baby steps so you could trust him.
A light buzzing came from your phone and before he could look at the caller you were standing up with phone in hand, “Jungkook!”
He rolled his eyes as you excused yourself to your room to answer and before he knew it he was going to follow. His ear pressed against the door trying to decipher the muffling but his blood was beginning to boil, thrumming in his eardrums. He could practically picture you right now. Smile on your face, giggling about something your friend said. The same friend who’s in love with you and wants to make sure you stay away from Taehyung. His jaw clenched as he backed away from the door, he couldn’t have you catch him eavesdropping. He walked past by your door, looking down at your entrance table, a silver shining object catching his eye.
He looked back to your bedroom door still hearing you talk and his feet took him toward the trinket bowl where your keys sat. Next to your main keychain was a single silver key and as he held up comparing it to your other key he noticed it was for the apartment. Without another thought he dropped the key into his pocket getting away from the table and sitting down to wait for you. It was a rush, his hands shaking at the thought circling his mind. He has only been able to be at your apartment when you’re in class.
He would steal a package of yours or watch a new piece of furniture come and he’d convince you to let him help you when you were gone. He’d take his time looking at all your photos, looking in your drawers, in your bathroom, anything. He’d smell your scented shampoos and wrap your blanket around him taking in your sweet smell. He will admit that he might’ve taken a pair or two of your underwear but it was the clean ones. He still too nervous to go through your hamper. Now that he’s got the key he could do so much more than just snoop while you’re not home.
“Sorry, Jungkook wanted to know if he was picking me up tomorrow and then I got distracted,” you said as you came out, completely unaware of what Taehyung just did. He smiled, “It’s alright but it’s getting late, maybe I should head home now.”
It happened two nights after. Taehyung had been hanging out with you when he was off work and crushed a few tablets of Melatonin into your water. He didn’t want you drugged up, but melatonin would surely knock you out. He mixed the water with a flavor packet and you hadn’t tasted the sleeping supplements.
Taehyung let out a shaky breath at the image in front of him. Your sleeping figured curled up under the sheets in a deep slumber. He pulled the sheets back immediately biting back a groan at the sight. You slept in only a t-shirt and panties, the t-short was twisted and your panties barely covered anything. You stirred at the sudden exposure, but didn’t wake up.
He took a seat at the edge of the bed. He shouldn’t do this, right? Yet even as he thought that his hand was gliding along your soft leg, goosebumps raising on your skin that he tried to soothe. “I have to,” he whispered to himself thinking back to all those times he dreamt about this. Of course you were awake in those dreams but this would have to do. Things weren’t going as quickly as he hoped and he just couldn’t take it anymore. He had to have you, that way your friends such as Jungkook won’t steal you from him. He spread your legs carefully.
His eyes fell shut as he placed gentle kisses on your thigh, your heat coming closer and closer. He took a deep inhale smelling hints of your body wash. He had stolen a small amount one day and washed his own body with it. Without your knowledge, your body was reacting to his proximity. He could practically see the smell wet patch forming on your underwear and it’s only then that he realized how close he had actually gotten. His nose brushed against the thin material of underwear.
“You won’t be mad, right?” he teased the lips of your cunt through the fabric, his thumb running over your clit, “You have to understand baby, I need this. I’ve been so patient and you don’t even realize it.”
Taehyung did not hesitate to pull your underwear down, eyes locking at the glistening pushy. You had already been wet and he wondered if you were having a wet dream, maybe about him. Lord knows he’s had too many with you as the star.
He dipped tongue inside to taste you, not being able to hold back. A moan slipped past his lips as he sunk his tongue between your pussy lips, nose bumping your clit before lapping up some of the slick. His eyes locked on your face, almost daring you to wake up but you simply withered in his hold. His hands held your thighs apart giving himself more room between your legs.
He knew you’d be sweet. Everything about you was just so sweet, even your essence and it drove him mad, clearly. He’d never done anything like this, he never put this much effort into someone but you were different. You were destined to be his and that thought alone was enough for his hardened member to brush against the mattress.
He was getting ahead of himself, his middle finger massaged your outer folds, lathering his digit with your slick, running it up your slit and poking at your clit. It was dark and he wished he could your pretty cunt but he knew he can’t turn the light on. In a stroke downward his fingers dipped into the ring of nerves at your entrance, already feeling so tight. He had wetness dribbling down his chin along with a little bit of drool and he couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to bring you so much pleasure, so he let his finger sink in. The puffs of your tight walls hugged his finger snugly and he was groaning at the feel. He looked down at your clit before bringing his lips down onto it, sucking gently as if it was a nipple all while his finger began to thrust in and out.
You began to stir in your sleep but he was too far gone. He needed to taste your release and it had him sinking his ring finger in as well. Your brows scrunched together and he watched your face contort in confusion or pleasure while his tongue flicked over your clit, moving it around with his probing.
“Ah,” you whined but he didn’t stop. Not even when your hand was flying down toward your heat wondering what was happening. Your hand landed in his hair and his eyes rolled. Yes, touch me too, he thought as he sped up his ministrations.
Your eyes widened, sleep draining from your body as you released a loud moan. You looked down at the soft locks you were holding, mouth drawing open in bewilderment, “Tae? W—what, ngh, Wait…”
He didn’t, he kept going feeling the pulse of your walls meaning you were close. You tugged on his hair to get him to stop but the pull only turned him on even more. Your head dropped back, “Please, sto—“
He pulled away, crawling up your body bringing his fingers to his mouth for a taste. He stopped when he was facing you, your noses nearly brushing and he watched your eyes water. “What are you do—“ his lips pressed against yours and you blamed it on the stimulation he’d given you that had your mouth opening to the kiss.
“Shh, don’t you trust me?” He asked peppering your face with gentle kisses, “Aren’t we friends?”
“Yes, but how’d you—Tae!” He sucked along your neck wanting to create love bites on your skin. His hands groped your sides, “Don’t you like me? Don’t you think I’m handsome?”
You thought about it for a second. Of course he was handsome but he’s your friend. He went on kissing down your exposed collarbone, “Don’t I always take care of you?”
“You left your door unlocked and I came to tell you,” he pulled at the hem of your shirt, you weren’t wearing a bra and he wanted to kiss the mounds of your breasts, “But you looked in pain, and I don’t like seeing you in pain. Doesn’t it feel good? Getting the release you need baby?”
“I—“ his hand was cupping your breasts through your shirt hiking it up letting the cold hit your exposed cunt, “It does feel good but, aren’t we friends?”
“Friends can help each other sweetie,” he was yanking your shirt up, “Aren’t I helping you right now? Look at your body, it’s so wet and your nipples are so stiff baby, I just wanted to help.”
“You know I’d never hurt you,” he said pulling away to look down at your pretty body. He’s only seen glimpses of it through your cracked door when you change or bathe but it was beautiful, and all his.”
“You don’t want my help?” He made a pout letting his hands cadres your shaking thighs, “Your body wants my help, won’t you let me help? I’ll make you feel so good.”
Your eyes locked with his and he was bucking his hips seeking friction against his jeans. You were so damn beautiful and innocent and naive and perfect for him. You didn’t want him to think you didn’t need him. You did need him but you never expected him to do this. But, he was making you feel good and you had been tense lately. Maybe he sensed it and thought he should help? He helps you with everything else anyway. “Baby?” He called out, his patience running thin wanting to move things along. You nodded and it made his heart skip a beat, “Words honey, use your words.”
“Will you be gentle?” You asked and he audibly moaned, his eyes closing, yes finally.
“Of course,” he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “See? And after, you’ll help me feel good too right? That’s what best friends do.”
You never did this with Jungkook but maybe it’s because Taehyung’s older. Maybe this is how more matured friendships do. You nodded in agreement, “I’ll make you feel good.”
“Fuck, baby you’re so perfect,” he let his head fall against your chest, rubbing his face between your breasts with his mouth drawn open, “Tomorrow I’ll take you shopping. I’ll buy you whatever you want because you’re such a good girl. Aren’t you baby? Aren’t you my good girl?”
You nodded and he smiled, he looked like a predator as he began to slide down your legs to continue what he’d done when you were asleep.
::.
ok fr thanks for sending this in. I’ve been wanting to do a yandere Tae but my minds been going blank lately
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asingleietsist · 8 months
Text
"A Green Queen" AU
Daisies
The yoshi leapt and bounded as it tried its best to keep up with the floating ship.
"C'mon, we're almost there!", She exclaimed. "Just a little bit ahead"
The yoshi huffed only to skid to the side and run to the left. "Wait, no! The ship is that way!"
She tried to steer its reins to the right, but it yanked its head back again and sped towards the open desert.
It looked up and leapt once more before an array of crimson blocks appeared, leading up to the sky.
"Oh..", she noted. The yoshi looked back at her unamused. "Hehe sorry.."
It nodded then crouched down and jumped up onto the blocks. The two came onto the final block, the ship passing it quickly, and as the yoshi bounced towards it Daisy held in her excitement.
As the foot of her ride hit the edge, the two got knocked back by a huge boulder-like figure, falling into the sand below.
"No!", She yelled as she watched the ship leave. Daisy stood up, widened her stance, and faced the stagnant rock ready to fight it.
Several Ganchans broke off from their fused boulder form and rolled past her feet towards a figure behind her. The yoshi looked over to it and hid beside Daisy once it saw him.
"Leaving without a present-" the voice coughed.
Daisy's eyes widened as she turned towards it. "Ugh, not you again!"
Prince Khufo grinned, his fur pulsed with electricity causing him to twitch and jitter uncontrollably. "Y-You know, if I didn't know any better. I'd let you go, like my poor old father did."
"Out of mercy.."
"Hah! He did it out of pity, but I know better.", He clapped his paws together and out of the ground, several Ganchans stuck to her and the yoshi, imprisoning them in stone all the way up to their necks.
"You little shi-"
"Ah! Mind your tongue there, I'm not afraid to cut it off~", he snorted. "Besides, I have a proposition. As you know, running an empire is quite boring and I'm in the mood for something... entertaining. Without the King of Koopas to play with and most of my parties being put on hold, due to the damage done to my castle. I'd like to strike a deal."
Daisy blinked then started to laugh, leaving the Prince bewildered by her reaction.
"H-Hey! Im serious!"
Daisy sniffled, "Sorry, sorry. I can't help it. All I see is a little immature kitten getting into something over his head. You don't even realize the severity of this, do you?"
Khufo's chest puffed, "Y-Yes, I do! I'm well aware of the Koopa Troopa and Bowser's army, b-but they have no king so they're weakened.", He hissed "Besides, you haven't even heard what I wanted yet. If you're so adamant about NOT listening, there's always the forcing you."
She moved her head away as his light purple claw grazed her cheek, "What do you want?"
"Simple, I want you to spy on the Queen for me."
"Queen?!"
"Yes, Bowser's husband."
"Husband?!"
"How long are you going to do that?"
"That?!", She exclaimed. He squinted his eyes as she held in her laughter.
"....By the stars, my father should've-"
"I'll.. do it. But I want to know why."
Khufo sighed, "It hasn't clicked yet? Geez, you're both stupid and ugly."
"Ugly?!"
"SHUT UP!", he yelled. His fur stood on end as he did. "Look, I know you're after the little red human. However you won't be able to catch up to them without assistance, so I'll help you get to him and you can help me find out more information on the Queen."
She looked down at the yoshi. It would take at least a few weeks and possibly a month to not only figure out where the ship was heading but also to catch up to it on time.
"Sure, what the hell.."
"Excellent! While we're here anyways, any questions?"
"You said there was a Queen? I did hear a koopa yell his name, but I didn't know Bowser took on a partner."
"It was rumored amongst his allies, but I saw it with my own eyes and they seemed...fine."
"What does he look like?"
"..... Tall, fair skin, pretty hefty, blue eyes, facial hair."
"Could you be a bit more descriptive?", She groaned.
"You'll know him when you see him", Khufo smiled. He flicked his wing, to which the Ganchans released themselves from the two captives. "Now, I'll get you a small balloon. I'll cloak it for a few hours, but after that you're on your own. Get on it before getting caught."
Daisy checked the small cuts on the Yoshi and nodded. "And medical supplies."
Khufo blinked, "what for?"
"You injured this yos-"
"He'll live. It's a few cuts, get over it."
She stood up and aimed a punch at the Prince only for a shock of electricity and magic to shock her off of him.
"Ugh..."
"Like I said. Get over it."
She glared at him as he and the Ganchans headed back towards the castle.
"C'mon, you'll need to get on before sundown."
Daisy stood up slowly, the yoshi slightly nudged her to get on but she shook her head, "I'll be fine. You on the other hand..."
She ripped a few strips of clothes from her cloak and tied them around as many cuts and gashes as she could.
The yoshi beamed at the bandages then turned to her wagging its tail. She nodded and it gave her a quick lick to the face, causing her to laugh.
"You're welcome! Now, let's get going..", she sighed. Her eyes looked over to the Prince who was waiting for them to follow.
Both exchanged a glare, but she simply walked towards him, gripping the reins tightly. Her hands shook violently, upset she couldn't do anything further.
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fangirleaconmigo · 2 years
Text
It's time again to play...
I Can't Believe It's Not Fanon
otherwise known as: 
Witcher facts that sound like Geraskier fic writers made them up, but that are, in fact, book canon. The subject of this post is...(drumroll please)
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In fic, Geralt is often extremely, over the top, protective of Jaskier. Is this is a bit of an exaggeration invented to please Geraskier shippers?
Well, folks...
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It is canon, my friends. And I think you guys are going to really like this one.
Geralt is especially protective of Jaskier/Dandelion, thinking of him first, even in war zones, and even when he has others to protect.
Now, to review, my previous post was about how Dandelion is protective of Geralt. I've written here how he mocks people who are bigoted against Geralt. I wrote here about how He puts his pride aside to take a job he doesn’t want  to do because Geralt is hungry and gives him the equivalent of puppy eyes. He also withstands torture for Geralt and lies to his employer Dijsktra (essentially becoming Geralt’s spy rather than the other way around)
But now we're going to talk about:
Geralt as a Protector of Dandelion
When we think about Geralt being protective, we tend to think sword fights and bar brawls. And that is true, for sure. Geralt is absolutely fine with killing anyone who threatens someone he loves. 
But it’s not just grand gestures and homicide, folks, it’s day - to - day devotion.
Geralt is a bit of a mom friend and considers it his job to protect Dandelion’s from his own trademark curiosity.
Dandelion has little restraint when he gets it into his head to examine, grab, question, taste, ANYTHING that he discovers. (I think Joey shows this very well in TWN when he’s in the Kaer Morhen lab sticking everything in his mouth!!) Everything fascinates him!
And this comes up a lot.
Once again Geralt quietly cursed the bard’s irrepressible curiosity.
Baptism of Fire Ch 2
and
Dandelion, who had never been able to reign in his curiosity, urged Pegasus on…
Baptism of Fire Ch 3
Geralt takes it upon himself to protect Dandelion from the effects of his unfettered passion and interest in the world. Here is a funny (to me) scene in Sword of Destiny. Dandelion insists on going with Geralt on this job to look for a sea monster. He’s hoping to see a mermaid. 
They spot some underwater steps and immediately Dandelion wades out too far. 
"...they are steps," Dandelion whispered in awe."
Uh oh. Geralt tries to warn him.
"Dandelion! That's a trench! You'll slip off!"
Dandelion dismisses him of course. He has already seen this new cool fuckin thing, and won’t be dissuaded.
"...See it's shallow here, barely waist deep...as wide as a ballroom.."
Until
"...Oh, bloody hell."
Yeah, that’s what I thought. Bloody hell. Geralt intervenes.
Geralt jumped very quickly into the water and grabbed the bard, who had fallen in up to his neck.
Dandelion, of course, isn't fazed. He just ignores it and prattles on about the pretty mollusks he's found. (Is Geralt still grabbing him?)
"...It's a pretty color don't you think? Grab it and shove it into your bag, mine's full already."
LOL he’s filled his bag with sea shit and expects Geralt to now take up space in his bag. Poor Geralt. He tries again.
"...Get back on the shelf this minute, Dandelion, this isn't a game."
I laughed when I read that. ...this minute, Dandelion. See, it's no wonder he's such a good dad to Ciri. He just acts like that all the time. Then, sea monsters come out of the water (like they do) and Geralt and Dandelion run away. But Dandelion...
"...suddenly stumbled and fell...Geralt caught him by the belt and hauled him out of the foam, now seething all around them."
Sword of Destiny pp 221-226
I just love that visual of Dandelion trying to keep his head above water and Geralt hauling him out by his belt. I picture him like a flailing yowling wet kitten being scruffed. But anyway, they drag each other out and Geralt lives to fight another day.
But not before Geralt says RUN DANDELION SAVE YOURSELF and Dandelion says NO I’M NOT LEAVING YOU. 
That is a habit of theirs. You’re gonna see that a few more times in this post.
Dandelion’s physical safety is always in the back of Geralt's mind. He thinks of it when making any decisions.
In Baptism of Fire, when they are about to go into a scary forest with a whole company of friends, Geralt’s first thought is for Dandelion:
I’ll have to keep Dandelion on a short leash, and make sure he doesn’t touch anything. Particularly since there’s no shortage of plant life that likes to supplement its chlorophyll diet with morsels of meat, plants whose shoot are as deadly as a crab spiders venom when they come into contact with skin. And the gas of course… Baptism of Fire Ch 7
I just picture Dandelion on a little short leash and I cackle.
Now, what about when Geralt has more people to take care of? Does he still think of Dandelion first before anything else? Yes.
In Baptism of Fire, Geralt is traveling with a company of friends (the dearly beloved hansa), Zoltan Chivay and his crew, war widows, and war orphans. (Don’t ask how he gets himself into these things...it’s usually bc his heart is squishy shh don’t tell him I said that)
But holy shit! What’s this??? Nilfgaardian troops appear out of nowhere! (Well, not nowhere, they are traveling through an active war zone). Shrieks from the refugees pierce the sky.
“Nilfgaaaaaard!”
Cavalry from the West! Nilfgaard are attacking! Every man for himself!
There is utter pandemonium. Milva (archer friend, love of my life) calls out to Geralt.
“Our horses!...Our horses, Witcher, follow me!”
Milva is the biggest horse girl in all of the saga (Geralt is merely a second rate horse enjoyer, world’s okayest horse dad next to her) and she’s like COME WITH ME.
Now, let’s look at what Geralt does. Let’s review. There are civilians. War widows. War orphans. Several other dear close friends. Horses. And what does Geralt do? Well, actually let’s start with what Dandelion does...you know, what he always does...shriek for Geralt.
“Geralt!” Dandelion shouted. “Save me!”
If there is one thing Dandelion will do every time he is in trouble, it is shriek for Geralt. Again, this is well represented in the show by Joey when he tells Yen: "You don't get to be the damsel in distress. That's my job." (I really wish I knew which lines were improv'ed bc I loved that one)
But ok, so back to the passage.
“The crowd separated them, scattered them like a great wave and carried Milva away in the blink of an eye. Geralt, gripping Dandelion by the collar, didn’t allow himself to be swept away...”
So. He didn’t think long about that one. He already has him by the collar when shit starts happening. Then Geralt tries to get his bearings but he can’t because:
The Witcher could no longer see anything, but neither did he have any time to watch since he was busy rescuing Dandelion, whose legs had been swept from under him again by a stampeding hog. When Geralt bent down to pick the poet up, a hay rack was thrown straight onto his back...
Ouch. Now he’s on the ground and Dandelion is up.
“Get up!” the troubadour yelled. “Get on your blasted feet!”
“I can’t,” the Witcher groaned...Save yourself. Dandelion.”
“I won’t leave you!”
Baptism of Fire 166-167
They are again, in the midst of danger, shouting vows to not leave the other. It’s their thing. 
When Geralt comes across Dandelion in Sword of Destiny, he is fleeing the war and once again asking Geralt to deliver him.
 "...Geralt, don't leave me here! I'll never survive by myself! Don't leave me!"
"You must be insane, Dandelion," 'the witcher said, leaning over the saddle. "you must be insane with fear, if you think I'd leave you. Give me your hand and jump up on the horse..."
Sword of Destiny p 368
So. They are just Like That.
Ok, onto the next dramatic Geralt rescue where he is so impressive and gallant in Dandelion’s defense it blows Cahir’s balls off. (Not literally. Also, if you’ve only seen TWN please forget everything you know about Cahir before proceeding. They are friends here).
Anyway, it’s near the end of Baptism of Fire, and the hansa is caught in the crossfire between Nilfgaard and Lyria. Dandelion is trying to get the Lyrian's attention to tell them they are on their side...ie...they are Nordlings, not Nilfgaardians (quick somebody hide Cahir). Someone shouts at him to get down. He...doesn’t listen.
The poet, as usual, rather than listen to the warning, wanted to know what it was all about. And right then, arrows whistled through the air...Two flew straight for Dandelion, but the Witcher already had his sword in his hand, leapt forward, and deflected both of them with swift blows.
“By the Great Sun,” Cahir grunted. “He deflected two arrows! Remarkable! I’ve never seen anything like it...”
Baptism of Fire 328
I mean COME ON. Gallantry. Can you hear me clapping and whooping? Geralt, buddy, you are magnificent. 
There is SO MUCH MORE OF THIS. In fact, my first canon or fanon post was about him slaughtering a whole room full of people to rescue a kidnapped Dandelion.And I still haven't covered everything. I can only include so many examples. But you get the idea.
Ok, but you could say...he always defends Dandelion because he’s the most hopeless one. And Dandelion usually is the least warrior-y person around. But not always! Sometimes there are war refugees. 
But more importantly, the thing is, we KNOW why Geralt saves him. The story tells us that it enrages Geralt when people harm Dandelion. It is his emotions. He just reacts. Here are two examples.
First example of Geralt feeling rage when Dandelion is harmed:
In this one, the people who harm Dandelion live (or more correctly do not live) to regret it. So, in Baptism of Fire (can you tell I just reread this one) Geralt and Dandelion are fleeing the noose (long story) and Geralt steals a horse.
"Jump on, Dandelion! And hold tight!"
They are fleeing soldiers but end up surrounded. Arrows start flying through the air. Dandelion has his arms around Geralt.
Dandelion yelled, this time very loudly indeed, and dug his fingers into Geralt's sides. The Witcher felt something warm dripping onto his neck.
"Hold on!" he shouted, catching the poet by his elbow and drawing him closer to his own back. "Hold on, Dandelion!"
They lose balance and both fall from the horse. Dandelion hits the ground.
The poet thudded onto the dirt and lay still, groaning pathetically. His head and left shoulder were covered in blood, which glistened black in the moonlight.
Geralt does not take this well. Like. At all.
The Witcher sprang up, feeling a wave of cold fury and hatred inside him. He jumped out to meet their pursuers, drawing the horsemen's attention away from Dandelion. But not because he wanted to sacrifice for his friend. He wanted to kill.
So Geralt felt a wave of cold fury and hatred. He sprung up, not to sacrifice himself because he had no intention of doing so. He was going to kill. And reader, he does exactly that. He kills them all.
Then when he gets Dandelion back to camp, Regis offers to help. Regis is a barber surgeon and can do field dressings. The only thing is, Geralt has just FINALLY realized that Regis is a vampire. So even though Regis has saved his life and been a fucking amazing friend, Geralt is a TAD TENSE. Also, he is still emotional from seeing Dandelion get hurt. So when Regis says the following:
"Your blood smells nice, poet."
Geralt does not react well to this.
At precisely that moment the Witcher did something Milva would never have expected. He walked over to the horse and drew a long Nilfgaardian sword from the scabbard fastened under the saddle flap.
"Move away from him" he snarled, standing over the barber surgeon.
Now, Regis meant that Dandelion's blood wasn't infected, and was also poking at Geralt (the way he does). But we do see Geralt becoming enraged in that scene when people harm or when (he thinks) they threaten Dandelion. He's like, get your blood licking vampire mouth away from my fave boy. (Never to worry, they do all make up with best boy Regis)
Here's the second example of the story telling us literally that Geralt feels rage when Dandelion is harmed.
In The Last Wish, we are told how Geralt feels when Toruviel breaks Dandelion’s lute. More specifically, we are told how Geralt feels when he sees Dandelion’s lips quiver.
Here is Dandelion's response to seeing his lute smashed.
The poet turned as white as death. His lips quivered.
The very next sentence after "His lips quivered." is this.
Geralt, feeling a cold fury rising up somewhere within him, drew Toruviel's eyes with his own.
Geralt doesn’t feels fury when Toruviel kicks him. He is calculating. Smart. But now that Dandelion's lips are quivering, it's cold fury time.
Next, we get typical Geralt ‘kill me, not him’ gallantry. Filavandrel comes in and informs them that he has to kill them. Geralt says: 
"Spare him, at least," Geralt indicated Dandelion with his head. "No, not out of lofty mercy. Out of common sense. Nobody's going to ask after me, but they are going to take revenge for him."
I have to include the next part because it’s hilarious. (even though I’ve talked about it before). Filavandrel says...I can’t, because if I spare the poet, he’ll come back and avenge you.
So Geralt is having a ‘save yourself Dandelion’ moment, which as fucking always, Dandelion will. not. let. him. have.
"You can be sure of that!" Dandelion burst out, pale as death. "You can be sure, you son-of-a-bitch. Kill me too, because I promise otherwise, I'll set the world against you. You'll see what lice from a fur coat can do! We'll finish you off even if we have to level those mountains of yours to the ground! You can be sure of that!"
"How stupid you are, Dandelion," sighed the witcher.
The Last Wish, pp 190-200
But there is an even greater reason why Geralt defends Dandelion with such constancy and devotion. There is the single most important thing of all. Geralt tells us exactly what it is with his own words. So let’s let him tell us. 
In the djinn story in The Last Wish, Geralt is in the tent with Chireadan explaining why he needs to get Yennefer to help Dandelion with his throat, and he says,
“…this only concerns Dandelion. He suffered at my side, in my presence. I didn’t manage to save him and I couldn’t help him. I’d sit on a scorpion with my bare backside if I knew it would help him.”
The Last Wish pg 236
Geralt values his friendship and appreciates his loyalty. Plain and simple.
And ultimately that is why Yennefer comes to value Dandelion too, despite the fact that he can be a complete nightmare. It is his sheer loyalty and steadfastness that wins her over. In Blood of Elves when she is explaining why she wants him to be safe, she says:
“...Do as I ask. I wouldn’t like anything bad to happen to you. I like you too much, owe you too much--”
“You’ve said that already. What do you owe me, Yennefer?”
The sorceress turned her head away, did not say anything for a while.
“You traveled with him,” she said finally. “Thanks to you he was not alone. You were a friend to him. You were with him.”
The bard lowered his eyes.
“He didn’t get much for it,” he muttered. “He didn’t get much from our friendship. He had little but trouble because of me. He constantly had to get me out of some scrape...help me...”
She leaned across the table, put her hand on his and squeezed it hard without saying anything. Her eyes held regret.
Blood of Elves, p37
The fact is, both Yennefer and Geralt have had long lives filled with people using them as tools. Exploiting them. Wanting to use their power in the service of things they don't care about or actively despise. They both have a metric shitton of trauma plus some serious self worth issues.
So what both of them need more than anything is someone who values, likes, and loves them simply for who they are. That is why they both end up as parents to Ciri. They both make the decision to fight for her. To fight for the chance to love her as a child, not as a Source or a Chosen One or anything else. They realize they need humanity and to embrace their inherent worth as people.
That is why Geralt loves Dandelion. That is why Yen grows to love him. That is why he fits right in.
Because in a continent full of people with agendas who are thirsty for power and don’t hesitate to try to use them or Ciri, Dandelion is just there because he loves them. That’s it and that’s all. And what is more important than that?
I would fight to defend that too. 
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writercole · 11 months
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You, Me, and the Sounds You Make
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Summary: The first day of Beau Simpson’s honeymoon goes entirely according to plan. Squares: Honeymoon Vacation @anyfandomgoesbingo // Honeymoon @thebo3bingo Words: 475 Warnings: Implied oral, implied sex, fluff Credits: @ryebecca for the idea A/N: This has been simmering on the wip stove for a few weeks now. It’s all Becca’s prodding but it’s wonderful and fluffy and just what I needed.
Likes are loved but reblogs are golden. Patreon is gone. Tipping is available through Tumblr if you're so inclined.
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The soft rocking woke her from a deep slumber. She stretched her muscles, finding herself much more sore than she had anticipated. A sleepy smile graced her lips as she recalled the night before, the aching between her legs adding on to her memories.
As she tossed the covers off, the sunlight gleamed off of her wedding band, making it glisten like the waters surrounding the boat they had chartered for their honeymoon. She padded across the hard floors, letting her nose guide her to the galley where a cup of coffee was waiting for her. She took a sip and hummed when the perfectly mixed beverage hit her tongue. Looking around, she still didn’t spy her new husband so she shuffled up the step to the deck.
“Good morning, Mr. Simpson,” she cooed upon spying him with his binoculars. He turned to face her with a wide smile, one that widened further upon spying his sweatshirt draped over her frame.
“Good morning, Mrs. Simpson. Sleep well?” he asked as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“I did,” she giggled, “you wore me out last night.”
“Maybe I should wear you out again after breakfast,” he teased, leaning down to kiss her lips.
“We can’t spend all day in bed.” She laughed as his kisses began to wander, down her jaw, beneath her ear, along her collarbone. “Beau, I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”
He loosened his grip and slipped around behind her, ducking his head to press wet kisses along the back of her neck, gripping her tighter when she tried to wiggle away. “I’m not interfering with your coffee now.”
“It tickles!” Her giggles were drowned out by the sound of his exaggerated kissing noises. She held her coffee out to keep it from spilling on them.
“Hmm, you’re just going to have to put up with it, Mrs. Simpson,” he replied warmly as his hands drifted down her sides, lifting the hem of her - his - sweatshirt and groaning when he found her bare and dripping underneath. “Kitten, you’re killing me here.”
“I’m sorry, baby, you know how I am if I don’t get coffee.”
Beau sighed, releasing her for a moment before taking her coffee cup and sweeping her up into his arms. Laughter filled the air between them as he carried her over to the bow of the boat, laying her down atop the wooden deck and spreading her knees with his shoulders.
“Beau, what if someone sees?” she hissed, her words turning into a moan when he nipped at her inner thigh, her core begging for attention despite the soreness that had lingered only moments before.
“Kitten, there’s no one around for miles. So it’s just me, you, and the sounds you make until I decide that it’s time for you to eat breakfast.”
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pawnshopbleus · 10 months
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Put Me in a Movie - Chapter Nine
Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
Summary - You’re a famous actress and he’s one of the greatest directors of all time. What happen when you get cast in his new movie? 
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Chapter Eight 
They say that time flies when you’re having fun and that’s true. Months pass by and suddenly it’s the last day of filming. The movie isn’t done yet. It still has to go through the post-production phase of editing and promoting and the premier. Post-production was always your favorite part of being an actress. That meant that there were no more lines that needed to be memorized.
It was your last day of getting to explore the character of Polina, who by now has revealed her spy status to James. He doesn’t care about that though because he is infatuated with her. In the end, love wins.
Everyone was celebrating when Miguel said ‘cut’ for the final time. Hugs and kisses were thrown around liberally. People that you’ve never seen before came up to you to congratulate you on a job well done.
Peter and Jessica were some of the last two people you hugged. Peter’s hug was warm and soft, just like him. Jessica’s was long and filled with many emotions. She cried into your shoulder and thanked you for being like a sister to her during these last few months of filming. She broke the hug and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
Then, out of nowhere, Miguel comes up to you and hugs you. This action was surprising not only to you but also to everyone around you. They all stared but said nothing, too scared to upset Miguel on their last day.
With his arms wrapped around you and his head hovering around by your ear, he leaned in and whispered, “Meet me outside.” He let go of you and walked out of the sound stage.
“He didn’t even hug me and I’m the mother of his child,” Jessica scoffed. She was the first one to break the awkward silence that followed after Miguel's exit.
You laughed awkwardly at her comment but didn’t say anything. Truth be told, you didn’t know what to say. Miguel just hugged you and only you in a room filled to the brim with people in the industry. They could go to the press and start a rumor about you and Miguel if they wanted.
You did what Miguel told you to do. Meet him outside. When you walked outside of the sound stage and into the warm California night, you expected him to be there, but he wasn’t. You checked all three of the entrances of the sound stage and he was nowhere to be seen. You walked a bit further in your kitten heels around the lot and found him leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette.
“Smoking kills,” you say, trying to get his attention. Miguel looks over at you and chuckles. He then offers the cigarette to you. You accept it and take a hit. Then it hits you, your lips have just touched the place where Miguel’s lips once were. You cough. Not because of that cough, but because you’ve never smoked before.
“Still a virgin?”
“What?”
“A smoking virgin. I can tell that that was your first time smoking.” Miguel smirked. A smoking Virgin? Never heard that one before.
You narrow your eyes at him but he doesn't see. The lights are dim around this area. If he wanted to, he could kidnap you and no one would know. He likes the idea of having you all to himself. Miguel offers you the cigarette again, but this time you decline. “Smart decision,” he says.
“Why did you ask me to meet you out here?” Your feet were now killing you. Your kitten heels were a size too small and all you wanted to do was go home, take your shoes off, and lounge on your couch while you watched Bridget Jones’s Diary with Fern.
“Because I wanted to see if you would come.” Miguel puts the cigarette out.
“So I didn’t have to come?” You sigh. You could have been halfway home by now. Not that you didn’t like the fact that Miguel thought about you. You're just tired and couldn’t wait to watch one of your all-time favorite movies.
“I always make girls come.”
Is your brain playing mind games with you or are you hearing him correctly, “What?”
“I said, I’ll see you tomorrow at the wrap party.” Miguel bid you farewell, got in his car, and drove off.
The wrap party was going to be held at your home. It’s been a while since a party was hosted at your home. There would be some cleaning that needs to be done, some decorating, and some making sure that no one goes upstairs. It’s not that you didn’t trust the people you worked with, it’s just that you didn’t want strangers snooping through your personal belongings. Everyone from the cast and crew was invited to the wrap party plus a few extra celebrities and friends that wanted to come. Meaning people that didn’t need to be looking at your stuff were going to be there.
On the drive home, you thought about today. A chapter in your life was closing, but you were excited for the next. Press tours, red carpets, movie premieres, parties, and hopefully some romance.
Chapter Ten
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irenethewoman · 8 months
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Mrs. Shelby - Chapter 8 - Leverage
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In September 1919, Birmingham, Ada eloped with Sean while nobody was home, wearing her wedding dress.
I received this news from the owner of the flower shop. Everyone in Birmingham knew I was from the Shelby family, but they also felt that I didn't fit in with the Shelby family - because of my Chelsea accent, because I didn't like conflicts, and because I always paid my dues. They were my informants, and they would tell me things they wouldn't dare say to other Shelbys when I "casually" chatted with them.
What did Ada see in Sean? She's now like a troublesome rebellious teenager, ignorant of the hardships of life, just enjoying defying authority, and willing to give up everything for her so-called love. But what about her lover? He can't even take care of himself, let alone her and their child. What about their future? Love? Where is a future without bread?
I tried to restrain my scowl and bid farewell to the flower shop owner.
I walked impatiently through the streets, trying to find any trace Ada might have left behind.
But I stumbled upon someone unexpected, Grace, the bartender at Garrison's.
She should have stayed at the bar…
I saw her tracking a man, so I changed my target and followed her cautiously.
Bright golden hair, a striking red jacket. I don't know where the police found this spy, and they didn't even bother with a disguise.
I muttered to myself, pushing down my black-brimmed hat.
This is… Small Heath, where the Irish Republican Army hides. I hesitated whether to continue. Even their leader knows me and knows I'm from the Shelby family. But it's best not to stir up any more trouble here, for now. We don't want to fall out with the IRA just yet.
But thankfully, the man disappeared in front of a shabby house. Then the female spy approached without any suspicion…
I hid behind the rubble and watched them tussle. MI6 is done for, that was my first thought. A gunshot brought me back to reality. The blonde woman had killed the man she was tracking. It was almost comical how shaky she was. She couldn't even hold the gun properly, and she wanted to be a spy?
But this was good leverage. After all, the Cheltenham races were coming up soon.
I smirked, clapped my hands, and stepped out from my hiding place.
"Look, there's a frightened little kitten here."
Grace pointed her gun at me in panic. "Who are you?"
"Why did you kill him?" I wasn't going to take off my hat here and let the Small Heath people see my face. I pretended to raise my hands and walked towards the corpse, examining the wound. It was an accidental discharge; you could tell. Her nerves were shot, and she wanted to be a spy?
"But this is a good leverage." After all, the Cheltenham races were coming up soon.
She hesitated. I pressed on.
"This is Fenian territory. They don't even like the police meddling here. Where did you come from? You know they prefer to deal with murderers themselves. What are you doing here with a gun? Waiting for them to trace the bullets on the body back to you?"
"I'm different. I'm a Shelby."
She compromised, and we walked to a quiet corner. She handed me the gun, and I handed her my hat. Then I watched her take off her coat and put on my hat. I gave her the directions and left.
I shook my black hair and looked down at the pocket watch that had fallen from her. Inside was her photo.
"What a fool." She had blonde hair, and I had black hair. Even if we wore the same hat, it wouldn't hide that. When she had completely disappeared from my sight, I stuck my head out to make sure no one was around, then calmly walked out, using her coat and pocket watch to soak up the blood from the body.
I pretended to have just discovered the body, pinched my thigh hard enough to make myself cry, and shouted, "Dead body!"
"A blonde woman… she killed someone… I was just looking for my sister and happened to hear gunshots… she pushed me down and threatened me with a gun, took my hat, and ran away."
I trembled, and someone helped me up from the ground. Most of the people here knew me, even the Irish Republicans. "She's a Shelby."
Perfect, that's what I needed. Let them recognize me so that I can distance Garrison's from the Shelbys.
The people here gave me a glass of whiskey, asked a few questions, and then let me go.
Acting is exhausting.
I walked through the eyes of the Fenian Club members.
When I returned to the betting office, Tommy told me about Ada.
I poured myself a drink and listened quietly.
I really didn't want to get involved. I was afraid I would shoot Ada's bastard of a husband in anger and then have to tie her back.
After he finished, I poured Tommy a drink and then took his cigarette and extinguished it.
"You have blood on you," he said, pointing to my skirt.
"Yeah." I smirked and proudly showed him my trophies - a ladies' pistol and a bloody pocket watch.
"Our barmaid, you know, I've never liked her, but she's a dangerous one, Tommy. She killed a man in Small Heath. It's all hers."
"They're Campbell's people." Tommy looked at the things on the table thoughtfully.
I nodded and sat at the edge of the table, playing with his tie. "I think so. Remember the police robbery last month? It didn't go to Garrison's. I suspect Campbell ordered it for her."
"Cheltenham races must be careful of her," I warned him. "She accidentally fired today, don't push her too hard. I'm afraid she'll cause trouble."
"When necessary, use the charm offensive…" I muttered quietly. It was frustrating, Miss Turner, to approve of your young prince selling his charms.
He heard my last words and laughed.
"Today Billy Kimber told me to bring the barmaid. He praised her beauty. And now I'm just glad I didn't let Billy Kimber see you."
"You should change your name, goddess of hunting." Tommy held me and kissed me. "My Athena."
It seemed he wasn't satisfied from last night.
"At least not here, please, Tommy… I'm afraid I'll have a phobia about this table." I held my face in my hands. "There are still people outside…"
Protests were in vain, but now there was an extra coat between me and the table.
Tommy bought Garrison's from Arthur.
"Arthur isn't the only one who's depressed," I kissed Tommy's face, "my little prince has that right too."
He just looked at me without saying a word.
I meant it. I didn't want him to be so tired, to keep everything to himself, to treat everything as his responsibility. I wanted him to talk to me about his troubles, his anger, not just the business problems I happened to encounter. I was willing to help him, to be with him forever.
Danny, the high-velocity shell, knocked on the door while I was still sleeping next to Tommy.
"Gosh…" I rubbed my eyes. Tommy signaled that I didn't need to get up
, and he opened the door and went downstairs with Danny.
I just stared at the ceiling.
Every time it was like this, as long as I slept next to Tommy and he woke me up, I couldn't sleep anymore.
But he came back soon.
I asked him what happened, but he didn't answer, just held me. So we sat there in silence until I thought he had fallen asleep. Then he spoke.
"I think I should thank Finn properly for bringing you to me."
Looking at those loving blue eyes, I was puzzled. "What?"
"The Irish initially suspected that the Peaky Blinders had killed him, but because of your intervention, they are convinced it's a police spy." He kissed me. "Danny told me that the Irish are angry, believing that the government they were negotiating peace with is a bunch of liars. And they are willing to pay a high price to anyone for the missing weapons. They'll come to Birmingham after I return from the races."
"That's good news." Even though I had anticipated all this, I was still happy to see Tommy's smile, which I hadn't seen for a long time.
"There's another piece of news, Dani." Thomas held my face and looked into my eyes. "Your grandfather is looking for you."
"Looking for me? Is the sun going to rise from the west tomorrow morning?" I scoffed.
My grandfather was good to me before. But that was when my father, Lord Charles Turner, was still alive. When the Turner family's affairs became known to the whole of London, he didn't lend a hand when my uncle, who had barely escaped, begged him for help. Instead, he had me, who had barely escaped, sent back to 10 King's Road, London.
I was still lying next to Tommy, and he was holding me, but we both spent a sleepless night.
I slept through until Thomas came back from the races.
"How did it go?" Long hours of sleep made me feel dizzy, lying on the bed and not wanting to move, just lifting my head to ask him.
"She bit Kimber." Thomas sat beside me, playing with my hair. "Before her gun went off, I took her away."
"How did you manage that?"
"The Irish should understand Kimber's position. She's a police officer." Thomas stroked my back. "He didn't want to go against the police, so he handed her over to me, giving me a certificate to legally manipulate the races."
"It's okay. One step at a time."
Our goal, of course, is more than that. Kimber's legal certificate? If that's all we need, we should have wagged our tails like puppies a long time ago, and Tommy wouldn't have let Arthur beat the Li family members to a pulp.
We don't seek peace or surrender; we only seek cooperation.
Since one mountain cannot accommodate two tigers.
Then we'll replace Billy Kimber.
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padawansuggest · 1 year
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Listen. You guys know how lately (mostly in an attempt to get back to writing and writing things that genuinely feel self indulgent and soothing) I’ve been writing for old posts I made on here a lot lately?
Yeah okay so often times my ideas evolve so don’t take this too intensely. But. AU where Obi-Wan left the order to be a ballerina with a professional troop when she was around 18. She’s been going to a mega fancy school on Coruscant that only gets the best dancers since she was 13 and was invited in after she became Qui-Gon’s Padawan. Just imagine Qui-Gon waiting for her to get out of class with other nannies and parents waiting for their kids that’s SO funny to me.
Now, the change happens that they knew there was unrest in the senate and Obi-Wan said ‘okay this is actually the perfect chance to get spying on the right people’ so her and her new troop (which slowly become battle partners over the years like Padme’s handmaidens) leave and search people out. She ‘cuts ties’ with the Jedi under the guise of leaving the order. She doesn’t actually but Qui-Gon (also female along with Anakin being a girl too) becomes her only contact other than Feemor (best big sister ever) because Obi-Wan puts up a front of leaving to pursue being a dancer, not leaving as a separation from the Jedi, and Qui-Gon legally adopted her to keep close to her. They see each other often and after she gets Ani she becomes baby sister af.
Anyways. Fast forward around 15 years later (at least maybe a few more) and the Empire has officially been installed for about 7 years now (Obi was right and that’s why the Jedi knew to get out of the republic before it fell, so they are safely ensconced on the edge of Mandalorian space) and Obi-Wan’s cover has been blown and she’s gotta get back to the Jedi’s official new temple. Unfortunately she gets separated from her troop along the way and is pretty fucking traumatized and beat to hell by the time she makes it to Keldabe, one of the places she was able to get closest to Jedi space.
Anyways. She gets there and Jango (not-so-young prince of Mandalore, father to like 17 kids by cloners by now, absolutely big brother af because Jaster adopted Satine and Bo-Katan -and Arla when they found her- after Adonai died) finds her in absolutely torn clothes and looking fairly lost in the universe. First of all, the fact that she managed to make it about 6 blocks away from the loading docks is impressive cause any Mando worth their armor would have seen her and tried to drag her off to the medics by now, but she’s very traumatized and keeps running off.
Jango manages to get a hold of her by simply siding up to her like nothings wrong and offering her arm and ‘would you like to see the palace, verd’e?’ And Obi-Wan is sorta shocked but not only Jedi training, but also her time as a high class dancer for imps (like I know Visions just put this basic plot out but I had it years ago so it’s more inspirational than copying okay) and royals for the past decade and a half, kicks in and she lets Jango drag her back home like a cat who keeps collecting kittens. He just finds girls and brings them home to drop on Jaster’s lap like ‘here I heard ur bitch ass got baby fever, take this’ and giving himself new baby sisters. He loves it.
A million sons and baby sisters in droves. That’s all he needs.
Anyways. They get back, Obi is subjected to very annoying medical attention, Jango is horrified at she wounds and such, but then they hit another wall. Obi won’t get into the new clothes they keep trying to give her!!! Plz ur dress is torn and you barely have a thin robe covering you!
They gently corral her into a room with four suits of pure Beskar armor sitting in each corner so it blocks out the sound, while Jango is ranting at Jaster and Arla about how to get her calmed down. She’s already stolen two blasters! Admittedly, she also has her own sabers, so the call to Qui-Gon (who she gave the comm number for and didn’t give a name, just said that’s Mama) sort of just confirmed that it wasn’t so much protection as a safety blanket layover from Melida|Daan that she gets when she starts to panic.
So Qui-Gon is coming out with a team to come get her and informed her troop where their wayward idiot has gotten off to, and Jango is now faced with a new concern. Where is the toddler??? His three year old baby boy Kote??? Where’s the baby??
So. Obviously. Cody wandered off to go see the pretty lady with sad eyes and nice hair. Jango finds him curled up in Obi-Wan’s lap while she rocks him a little, helping him with his preschool learners book. She’s very patient with him, and more relaxed than she’s been in months. Jango lights up like a lightbulb and runs off, getting Boba and Omega’s bassinet to bring into the room and politely asks Obi-Wan to watch over them. She happily does so, calming down and giving many gentle kisses.
She’s still ignoring the new clothes they keep trying to get on her.
Finally, Satine and Bo get home, and ask what’s up. Satine thinks the girl is very pretty and nice looking. Cody might have to fight her cause he saw her first and that’s his future wife! Satine also thinks the same.
Satine goes off to her room and pulls out the most SCANDALOUS outfit possible. A short tee shirt and waist high exercise shorts! What the fuck Satine, who said you could dress like that??? Satine has never rolled her eyes so hard as when she explains she wears the shorts on top of her tights while exercising cause they have pockets and stuff. Okay, that’s more okay. Mandos don’t just!!! Show skin like that!!!!
Obi-Wan is given the clothes, and then further scandalizes the whole fam by stripping down right then and there in front of everyone and god and the fucking Mandalore to put on the new clothes. She’s much happier and goes back to cuddling Omega, while Cody quietly (loudly) asks Jango where Obi’s peepee is. Amazing.
Anyways. By the time Qui-Gon gets there, she’s willing to give partial custody of her baby to the Mandos for getting her cleaned up and soothed and handing her babies (Qui-Gon always sorta thought her girl might have ended up a nursery worker if not a ballerina lol) and getting her comfy and stuff. They took very good care of her traumatized girl but now she’s panicking when she’s asked if Obi is always that quiet. No. She in fact, is not a quiet girl! Oh shit!
She finally calms down the most and starts talking again when her dance troop gets there to coddle her a little, her dance troop who all have weaponry and protective armor and the Mandos respect that much more than Obi’s scandalous little dresses and stuff. Offensive.
But. I wrote this entire post to say. Mandos don’t show much skin, if any. And Jedi, will easily strip down in front of crowds. Cause it means nothing to them tbh. And Cody is wondering where her peepee is.
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Can i get “Look at you, squirming under me, all flushed and pretty looking. Can’t even take a little teasing, can you?” for kit and jacob please?
thank you @direwombat!!
Yet another smut that took me wayyy too long to finish, but it's here (after 10 months or something ridiculous like that)
can also be read on AO3 - The Hunt (3589 words)
18+ Minors DNI - Explicit smut, breeding kink, Predator/Prey dynamics, Bondage, borders on CNC, Kit and Jacob being freaks (affectionate)
A ten-minute head start. 
That’s all he gave her. 
Kit’s heart raced in her chest as she moved at breakneck speeds through the forests that surrounded Cedar Lake. She had no idea where he would be coming from or what he had planned, all she did know was what her survival instinct kept telling her – RUN . Hardly dressed for the environment, all she had on was one of Jacob’s oversized tees and her combat boots, but she’d be damned if she was going to let that slow her down, this was the hunt and GOD did she live for the chase. 
Diving over fallen trees and sliding through dirt and gravel she made a quick path for the densest collection of trees, where the orange and pink of the dusky evening sun couldn’t reach through the branches above. Dark, secluded, and quiet – a spot that would make her near impossible to find. Hiding in amongst the colossal ferns, she caught her breath. Her quickened pulse started to slow, until a twig snapped, and she could hear movement in the underbrush.
Local fauna or… ?
Sinking lower until her belly was in the cold, wet earth, her shirt growing damp against her bare skin, she scanned the area, trying to make heads or tails of where the sounds were coming from, and then she noticed the flash of the laser sight. 
He was close. 
Slowly crawling back up onto her knees, she darted off once more, sprinting as fast as her legs could take her even as the roots of the trees threatened to trip her and pointed branches jutting out like sharpened spears slashed at her bare skin. The blood running down her calves did nothing to stop her, it just made her feel more alive, the heat in her core only rising higher with each pound of her boots below...
“Come on angel, I know you’re out there.” He sang the words out, taunting her. “You gotta be getting tired by now.”
Like fuck she was. 
“You know the hunt only excites me,” Jacob teased, the cruel grin he was assuredly wearing evident in the sound of his voice. 
He was distant enough she knew she still had an advantage, but it was clear he was on her tail and for someone as big and intimidating as Jacob Seed was, he could be so goddamn quiet . It was hard to know just how long her lead would last, there was no telling when he might finally catch her. 
She smiled, her chest heaving, having to bite back on the hoarse laugh that wanted to break free – Kit was enjoying herself a little too much. 
“This isn’t supposed to be the fun part, kitten.”
Shit. He heard her. 
B-lining for the tallest spruce tree with the densest cover, she shoved the toe of her boot into the knotted bark, leaping up to meet the closest branch. Climbing up into the welcoming arms that would provide much needed cover, Kit gave her wounds a once over. Nothing life threatening, nothing that had to be treated right away. 
Spying through the boughs that sheltered her, she watched him enter the clearing. Jacob’s pale eyes steered around the trees and the forest floor figuring out which direction she went in. He was no stranger to searching for tracks, both animal and human alike, and with a spongy forest floor he could see exactly where her footprints stopped. Lifting his rifle, looking through the scope, the barrel rose to exactly where she was sitting, and the laser sight was aimed straight at her chest. The little red dot settled neatly between her breasts, light flashing on the gray cotton. 
He was playing with his food. 
Giving a toothy half grin, he called up to her in a drawl, “Found ya.”
Her tongue dragged against her teeth, the urge to rend flesh from bone creeping up on her. Piercing eyes narrowed and she swung her legs down from the branch, jumping from the tree. She braced herself as she landed in the dirt below, her knees scuffed and covered in dirt, little chunks of bark and soil now ingrained into the skin. Her feline stare threatened she would pounce, but instead she turned and ran, quickly picking up speed. 
She hadn’t given up yet. 
Pushing the drooping boughs out of her way, she let them slingshot backwards behind her, buying her that extra moment to get away if he was following. But her efforts counted for little, as she felt the sudden burning sting and the pressure of a slug cutting its way through her flesh. Stumbling forward, her feet carried her without any control and she careened into a tree. Her nails dug into the bark when she tried to catch herself, hissing as she gritted her teeth together and clenched her jaw, pressing her hand to the wound to apply pressure. Blood dripped down between her fingers, and coated her palm, and the smell of iron hung in the air. 
“Motherfucker.”
A large hand wrapped around the back of her neck, ragged fingernails digging into the thin skin, as Jacob shoved her up against the trunk. The whisper of metal against the leather sheath of the holster on his thigh was a small warning before the cold bite of the blade was held to her throat. Her heart raced, causing blood that pumped just below the surface to thunder through her veins. His chest pressed up against her back and the smell of cigarette smoke, the musk of his sweat, and the petrichor of the wet forest that clung to him and his clothing drowned out the rest of her senses, even as he pressed his nose against her, breathing her in as much as she was with him. The copper hair of his beard burning her wind bitten skin as his rough hand trailed up the outside of her thigh, his weight pinning her to the tree.  
“Thought I’d just let you get away, huh? Thought you could outrun me?” He whispered in her ear, his teeth nipping at her lobe. “And now you’re all mine. You’re gonna wish you never ran, angel.” 
A guttural moan purred from the back of her throat, the rumbling of some giant prowling wildcat building from her chest. A hint of the predator that lay beneath the flesh, the one made docile so she could act as prey. 
Pushing his leg between her thighs, the muscles under the denim of his jeans gave her just enough friction to use as she started to grind her hips against it. 
“Can’t control yourself for a minute, can you, Kitty? You’re just a fuckin’ animal, aren’t ya?” He slapped her ass, making her whine. “Hold still,” he ordered, voice low and commanding and she was forced to obey. Jacob slammed his knife into the trunk beside her head and pulled at the neatly coiled rope slung over his shoulder, the bundle falling into his hands. “Made me hunt ya down, now I get to have my fun.”
He snatched both of her wrists in just one hand, forcing them behind her back, and wrapped the rope around, binding her. Kit ground her teeth, clenching her jaw as the rope was tightened to the point her circulation was nearly cut off, her fingertips starting to go numb. She hissed as the fibers clung and dug into her wrists, burning at her skin as she struggled against her restraints.
Wrapping his hand up in the material of her shirt, still holding her tied wrists together before spinning her around, Jacob tossed her to the ground. The wind knocked from her temporarily, and she was left sputtering for air.
Kicking her legs wider apart, Jacob knocked at her ankle with the toe of his boot before sitting on top of her legs. She was trapped below him as his weight pressed against her. Leaning down, brushing his hand through her hair, he tucked her auburn waves to one side as he whispered in her ear, "You are so fuckin’ gorgeous, ya know that? Seeing you all tied up like this, it makes a man lose sense of himself. You can't run, so I guess you better accept the fact, Deputy Cross –” Clenching a fistful of hair in his hand, he pulled back hard making her wince and her eyes start to sting as he snarled in her ear. “That I'm gonna fuck you into the dirt until you're left wanting to claw at it and you’re screaming my name."
Laughing, she swung her head back to clock him in the mouth, but instead he forced her head back down, pushing her cheek into the forest floor.
"Good try, kitten. But now I'm gonna have to punish ya." 
Ripping open the back of her shirt, exposing her body to him, he was able to take in all of her toned muscle as she wriggled under him. "Y'know, I gotta say, a woman with a body like yours, does wonders for a man's libido. Ass and thighs like that, and those childbearing hips, well –” Rough, calloused hands fell to her hips as he licked his chops, his tongue dragging against the edges of his teeth. “Might just have to breed ya.”
His timbre was a low rumble, vibrating into her through her flesh, traveling through her nerves as his words coursed down the length of her spine, coiling up in her belly. "Fuck you," Kit snapped, her teeth clicking together as she bared them, not letting up from the struggle she continued under him. 
"That's the plan." Dragging her hips up towards him while she lay prone on the ground, he pressed his bulge against her, and with only a layer of denim separating them he started to grind against the curve of her ass as he unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped the fly with one hand. Freeing his hard cock, it throbbed with the anticipation of being inside of her – a sensation they both fully enjoyed.
“Keep that ass up for me, kitten.” Jacob commanded, growling out the words. 
Staring down at the vision before him, hands tied behind her back, ready and willing (even if she pretended the opposite) he smirked as the moonlight reflected off the sheen that had spread from her cunt to the inside of her thighs. Slipping his hand between her legs, he cupped her pussy and could feel the heat radiating off of it despite the cold. 
“You excited, Kitty?”
She scoffed, blowing bits of woody debris away from her mouth. “Like you really have to ask.”
He chuckled darkly and ran two of his fingers down the length of her folds, spreading them open. Moaning as he paid special attention to her clit, Kit gasped as his thumb pressed at the puckered hole of her ass. Her legs started to shake, eyes shutting tight, and a low, desperate whine leaked from her. “Please, Jacob. I need your cock.”
“Ah ah ah, Kitty. You know better. Begging isn’t gonna get you anywhere with me. Though it sure is pretty the way you say my name.”
She mewled and whimpered as he slid his fingers into her, curling them back and forth against her walls. Stroking the spongy, sensitive areas that made her stomach tighten on reflex. The wet sounds of his fingers dragging in and out of her making her head spin. 
“So wet for me already,” he cooed.
She nodded, swallowing heavily, gulping for air and unable to get the words out to respond. 
“Just remember, angel. You asked for this.” His hand slapped against her ass cheek with a loud crack, leaving a bright pink hand print behind. 
Knees buckling, she squealed as he continued with several more hard spanks against her, the sting making her flesh hot, and despite the cold of the mountain, there was a sheen of sweat forming on her forehead. 
“You like being treated like an animal, don’t ya? Not enough I put a collar on you, is it? I gotta fuck you in the dirt too, huh?”
Kit couldn’t speak as he ravaged her with his hands, a tear rolling down her cheek as her thighs clenched together and her walls clamped down around him. She was so goddamn close; he was going to make her cum any second. 
Coiling her hair around his fist like the leather of a leash, he dragged her back to rest against his shoulder and he kissed her deeply, muffling her noises with his tongue, and biting down on her lower lip when she cried out. His hand snaked between her thighs from the front, focused entirely on her clit and she became a sobbing mess under his touch, panting and moaning at his rough touch against her. 
“Say it, kitten. Say it for me.”
Her body stiffened, her cunt left empty, but an inferno ripped through her entirely, her brow furrowing as she moaned through her aching chest. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
He grabbed her jaw and ran his tongue up the length of the side of her neck. Licking up her sweat, dragging his teeth against the beat of her pulse just under the skin. “That’s my good girl,” he growled, his lips pressed against her. 
Pushing her back to the ground, he flipped her over and ripped open the front of her shirt as well, the material falling away from her in shreds. With her back resting on top of her hands, she was made immobile under him as he threw her legs over his shoulders. 
Jacob collected her breasts in his large hands, squeezing at the flesh and the fat. Rolling her nipples between his thumb and finger and then pinching them. Hard . She could do nothing but cry out while her back arched, shoulders pressing into the earth as her head tipped back. His hands dragged down the curve of her waist, fingertips running against the sensitive flesh of her scars along her abdomen, his nails scratching at her pale skin leaving angry red lines behind and making her shiver. 
Her senses all heightened, her mind still on high alert from the chase, every touch of his against her felt like a spark of lightning shooting through her. Her heart pounded, her mind raced, and her lungs took in breath after breath of the pine filled air, the smell of the fresh glacier fed lake water drifting in the breeze was a heady perfume she was drenched in. Being with him, outside and on his mountain only made her blood flow faster. It was having the same effect on him as well, as he stared at her hungrily with darkened eyes made nearly black from his blown-out pupils. 
Kissing along the lengths of her calves, the whiskers of his beard scratched against her skin and the clotting cuts, burning her as his hands rubbed over muscle, massaging the scar tissue and fresh wounds alike, fighting off the freezing mountain air that chilled her. He stared at her from the corner of his eye, not taking his attention off of her for a single moment as she looked up at him panting, trying her best to adjust her hands to get comfortable. 
Holding her hips, he groaned as he lined the head of his cock up with her entrance and thrust deep inside of her. Dragging it back and forth, in and out of her, he slowly rocked his hips as she stretched open wider for him, coating him in her arousal. Teasing her as he pressed further into her, length disappearing as he bottomed out right to the base of his cock. Wiry ginger hair matted against hers while he filled her completely, only to pull out and then give her just the tip.  
Biting down on her lower lip, she whined and wriggled her hips trying to get him to go in deeper. 
“Look at you, squirming under me, all flushed and pretty looking. Can’t even take a little teasing, can you?” He shoved himself into her again and she cried out. Following every thrust with a stuttered group of words he strained to get out “I’m gonna. Have to. Train you. All over again. Aren’t I?” 
Her eyes rolled back into her head, the pressure inside becoming too much, going deeper than he ever had before. 
“Maybe keep you on that collar and leash permanently ‘til you learn your place again.”
She wriggled her legs free from his shoulders just enough to dig her heels in the dirt, trying to kick him off of her. 
Clamping his hands down on her thighs, he dragged her back towards him, scraping her back in the dirt and her howl met with the chorus of his roaming packs of Judges out in the forest. Jacob wrapped his hand around her throat, squeezing it just tight enough to get her to stop moving as she focused on her breathing. 
“Where the fuck are you goin’? I’m not done with you yet.”
He grabbed the front of her thighs and pushed down against her until her knees pressed into her chest. Trapped in a mating press, all she could do was moan and mewl underneath him. Flushed from her chest to the tips of her ears, her skin glowed as bright a scarlet as her hair. Her whole body shook underneath him, quivering and spasming with how he treated her and her sensitive, aching cunt. Pounding into her relentlessly, his pale eyes stared down at her. More a wolf than a man, Jacob was allowed release from the rules and control that was expected of him as the Herald and as the leader of the Father’s army.
 "What happens, huh? What happens if I make this one take?"
"Suppose that's up to you, isn't it? Would you still want me?" She looked up at him, eyes searching his face for the answer.
"You know I would."
His mouth crashed down onto hers, his big hand brushing through the sweaty hair on her forehead and into the crown of copper hair on her head, continuing to thrust into her. Fucking into her as deep as he could go, as deep as she could take him. 
She was sure he’d hit her cervix several times, her cunt aching and sore, sharp stinging shots throbbed through her abdomen, but he wouldn’t let up – she didn’t want him to either – pain was part of the experience, it added to the whole and never retracted anything from it. What did she care when her body was already broken? 
“Fuck, Jacob, you’re so deep.”
Chuckling quietly while pressing wet, lazy kisses to her neck, his lips wrapped over where her carotid beat and he sucked on the pulsing, sweaty skin. Beads of his sweat dripped off the tip of his nose and rolled down her throat and onto her chest, mixing with her own. Picking up his pace, increasing the force with which he snapped his hips, Jacob began to grunt. His hot breath fanned against her, his brow furrowing as he growled from deep in his chest with a low rumble like thunder. 
“Feel so goddamn good, angel.”
He was getting close; the rhythm he had once now just as lost as he was at the sensation of having every inch of himself shoved deep inside of her. Groaning, fighting against the bitter ache in his gut that told him to use her for his own needs, to get whatever he wanted from her. She was tied up, trapped, and she couldn’t fight any longer (not that she would if she could). She was all his. 
“I’m gonna fill you up, angel. Gonna stuff you so full of my cum your little cunt isn’t gonna be able to hold it all.”
His fingers dug into her thighs, sharp stabbing thrusts of his cock inside her let her know he was nearly finished. His pace picking up, his balls slapping against her as his breath heaved out in pants. “Fuck,” he rasped. His breath hitched as his legs shuddered and spasmed, shaking as he flooded her womb. 
Laying on top of her, his cock softening, it slipped out of her, and his seed dripped from between her thighs that were all slick with both of their fluids. Seeping out of her (just like he said it would) onto the forest floor as he pressed lazy kisses to her lips, catching his breath between each meeting of their mouths. He rolled over to lay beside her and dragged the back of his hand across his forehead to wipe off the sweat, coughing and clearing the phlegm and debris that had caught in his lungs and throat. “Goddamn, kitten.” His arm wrapped over her and pulled her body in towards him, bathing her in the heat he seemed to radiate like a furnace. “This might have been one of your best ideas yet,” Jacob said with a smirk. “Didn’t hurt you too bad, did I?”
“No,” she mumbled, still somewhat in a daze, the afterglow telling her to give into much needed sleep, but she fought the urge to close her eyes.
“Good.” He brushed his hand over the damp hairs that clung to her cheek and kissed her forehead before taking off his field jacket and draping it over her. “Better get back soon before you catch your death out here.”
“Mmhmm,” she hummed before nuzzling up against him, wrapping herself up entirely in the safety of him. Surrendering. 
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A kept woman
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Summary: August deserves a reward for all his hard work in the cia. He was on the front lines protecting the national security of the nation, so a little waitress wasnt too much to ask for.. was it?
Warnings: obsessive behaviour, dark!August, kidnapping, spying, swearing, hints at captivity/Stockholm syndrome, hint of bdsm, dark fic.
A/n: well what can i say? I tried to make a drabble below 1000 words, lost track of the wordcount and here we are 😅😅 i hope you enjoy a little ark auggie though~
Free the typos! Not beta read so please ignore the typos.
 
Wordcount: 1445 (nailed it 😅😅)
It was wrong, he shouldnt do it. But he had, and couldnt deny the sense of pride and excitment he had. He was the hero, the white knight who came barreling in to the scene with his polished shoes and 200 horse power to rescue the innocent princess from her fate.
Okay maybe it wasnt that pretty, and there was a chance you didnt feel rescued yet. But you would! He just had to get you home and tie you to something and explain a few things.
August sighed as you tried to scream through your gag again and kicked out at the back of his seat. Though he bearly felt it. One, this was a Bentley;  a good quality car with sturdy padded seats. And two, noone can kick that hard with legs tied at the ankle, knee and thigh... god he hopes ou dont get rope burn, nothing would send him rabid then to see the red rope marks on your supple sking. The indents of a tight binding always made him a sexual savage, salivating at the sight of innocence bareing the twisted marks of rope.
He tried not to think about it. It'd do no good trying to calm his new kitten whilst having a raging hardon. Youd get the wrong impression and think he was going to rape you or somthing stupid. He loved you, he wouldnt hurt you; if anything you should be happy. Ecstatic even! Youd never have to work yourself to exhaustion again. Never worry about bills and rent or that disgusting lowlife youd paired up with. Youd live like a queen, august would give you a better life then anyone else. He wont hit you. He wont con you. He just wants to love you.
"Hush sweet girl, your fine, everything is going to be perfect you'll see. Im rescuing you" he uttered throwing a glance at you only to grunt, eyes locking on the plain soft looking panties that were now on display as your skirt was now tucked around your hips from you squirming. He gripped the steering wheel tighter making the leather creak.
"Oh look at you~ such a naughty little thing hmm? Is this really the time to be teasing me? When your helpless and scared?  bratty? Honestly, you cant even wait until we get home?" He spoke without thinking, smirking and releasing a low growl as he repositioned his rear veiw mirror to drink in your delectable form. Only to shudder as another muffled cry came from your lips, and you wriggled your bottom trying to coax the skirt back over yourself again. the scene made his cock swell. His need for you had become too much.
"Come now little one hush, we are almost home. Everything will be better when we are home" he offered calmly trying to ignor the raor od blood in his ears as his body began toghtening. It was takjng everything in him not to stop the car and scoop you into hos arms and just hold you for a whole. He wanted to ease your panic and sooth you. To comfort you, he never wanted you to fear him. Respect, love and obey. But never fear.
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You were the girlfriend... ex girlfriend of a low life with a growing pill habbit. Working all the hours under the sun just to feed your boyfriends habit. Not that you knew that, the scummy bastard ha been telling you the rent was going up. And up. And up. It hadnt, the boyfr;ex had been useing your hard earned money for pills.
But you being the innocent little girl you were trusted him and made sure to up your hours to provide and keep the shitty roof over your head. August had found it strange that you were at the little diner from 5am to 9pm almost everyday. He made sure to leave you bigger tips during his undercover surveillance of the phone box across the road used by the cartel that owned the seedy bar next to it.
He hadnt exactly minded sitting in the diner all day poseing as a accountant sippjng surprisingly decent coffee staring athis 'work laptop'. Especially when he'd done a background search on everyonenin the place. Youd stuck out like a sore thumb, hed expected to see bad grades, high school drop out little slapper with maybe one or two kids and a dead beat husband with a drink problem who refuses to work because of some made up injury he got ten years ago in the forces or some shit.
Instead he found a smart woman whod just had bad luck. Kicked out from her 'god fearing' purity police parents for having an iud. You had excellent grades a degree in business management; which you were pressured into by your god squad parents. But now was stuck in a dead end job, paying off student loans, keeping a roof over your head whislt trying to create a nest egg to pay for a spot on the wall of a local well to do art gallery in the city.  Thats right, his polite little waistress was an artist, a sweet little painter. To say he was surprised you wasnt an aspiring influencer was an understatement.
It was when august saw your so called lover grasping you by the hair and shaking you violently behinde the juke box where he thought no one would see. Thatthe agent had taken more nottice of you. Your whimpers of fear and tiny yelps had moved him.
He'd watched closer, observes the bruises and grazes more carefully and made small talk. He'd sneered at anyone else who aproached him. He only wanted to be served by you. As the weeks went on he couldnt stop thinking about you and your situation. He could help. He needed to help you, protect you! If only youd ask him to. He'd sweep you up and carry you off into the night like a phantom.
He was well aware of his obsession,  but he didnt care. Dreams of you by his side safe and happy. Greeting him at the door after a hards days work with a huge grin and random paint smugdges over your face whislt holding up your latest masterpiece for him to see. He wanted you, he wanted to keep you. You were to precious for him to ignore. You needed him, and he deserved you, after everything he has done for the country he deserved having a little wife waiting at home for him. And so he decided to claim his reward.
He made a studio for you, all the paints and brushes you could ever want! He cleared every single piece of art from his walls to encourage you to paint, he wanted you to fill his home with your art. And live a luxurious life of a kept woman.
August smiled as his home finally came into veiw. A large glass and dark wood monolith perched on a rocky outcrop over looking a large private lake completely claoked in twenty five acres of thick forrest. He had been particular about this place. This was off the record, his retirement plan with everything he could ever want, from gym to sauna, steam room to wine cellar, dungeon and spa, he even had a panic room and mini bunker two levels below ground built into the rock.
"Now now dont fuss, we are home love. Now lets get you settled." He preened as you cried louder when the world became dark as he pulled into the underground garage. August was quick to remote lock the garage, then without further ado he plucked you from the back seat and carried you off into the house.
It would take time before you came arohnd to him again, but once you were settled and had spent a few weeks here in your little studio and realised he will take care of everything and you had absolutely nothing to fret about youd love it. And thats when he can woo you. He estimated in around three months time youd happily follow him into the dungeon for some playtime. Untill then he will just have to be patient with you.
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thornsnvultures · 1 year
Text
in charcoal, in pain
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stepdad!Lloyd Hansen x plus size!fem!reader
tw: stepcest, cheating, dubcon, Lloyd being mean and a creep, reader is college aged (at least 18+ but I'm picturing at least 22 or 23), unprotected piv sex, creampie, daddy kink, thigh & pussy slapping, light choking, size kink (lloyd is bigggg), nicknames (kitten, baby girl, little girl)
2.3k words, edited by me. @ozarkthedog take my filth 🤲
18+ readers only or else you will get blocked 🚫
♤♤♤
“Oh wow. So edgy.”
“Go away, Lloyd.”
You shrug off your overbearing stepfather and turn, trying to block him from looking at your sketchbook.
“Is this what they teach you at your fancy art school?” He gestures towards the figure reference book laying open on your desk. “How to draw tits and ass?”
“Jesus, Lloyd. Will you leave me the fuck alone already?”
He swipes your sketchbook out of your hands.
“Hey!” You shout and spin around in your chair. Lloyd absent-mindedly flips through the pages. He makes faces like he's scandalized by what he sees.
“Wow lookie here! Do I spy some self portraits?”
Heat rushes to your cheeks as you recall what exactly some of your very personal pages are filled with.
You jump out of your seat and try to snatch your book back but Lloyd's long reach keeps you from grabbing it back.
“Lloyd, please.”
Him and his stupid mustache smirk down at you.
“Music to my ears.”
He holds your book up, leafing through it once again. You growl under your breath and jump for it. You land on unsteady feet and fall into Lloyd's solid chest with an oof.
“Whoa there, kitten. Calm your tits. I can't appreciate good art when I see it? And it's some good art.” He looks down at your chest, still pressed up against him, when he says it and you shiver. No, not shiver. Crawls, your skin crawls.
He's an old perv, eyeing his step-daughter's 2D tits and trying to imagine what the 3D ones look like.
Please Lloyd, just give me my book back. We're not in grade school.
I appreciate the please, kitten, but you hurt my feelings. He pouts and slips an arm around your waist.
His touch catches you off guard and you gasp at the warm strength of him. If it was anyone else you'd be melting in this kind of embrace. But as it stands you're struggling to get out of his grasp.
“Here I am just trying to scope out where all that money I spend on you is going. I need to make sure my baby girl is getting a good education.”
Oh barf. You don't need him to pay your tuition but him and your mother insist anyway. You think he must like holding the power over you, making you feel like you owe him for all of it.
“And if you ever need a live model, I wouldn't mind posing for you.”
His grin is salacious. You want nothing more than for Lloyd to let you go but he only tightens his grip, his large hand squeezing the curves at your hips and waist.
“I'm good Lloyd, thanks.”
He tosses your book on your bed and a few loose leaf pages fall out from the back.
You must make some noise of distress in the back of your throat because Lloyd looks down at you then back at the pages as they flutter to the floor.
“What are these?”
He pushes you away and makes a beeline for the old wrinkled notebook paper.
You don't even try to stop him, it's too late. He holds your drawings from your final year in high school, the same year he married your mom, in his hands.
“What are these, kitten?”
He waves the papers at you before admiring them again.
You whimper like a wounded animal caught in a trap.
“Nothing. They're nothing, Lloyd.”
Lloyd licks his lips as he flips each page over. They're filled front to back of sketches of... him.
Old work, yes, but you've always been talented with faces and the human form. And the sketches on those papers are Lloyd to a tee.
“Lloyd, please…”
“I love it when you beg, kitten. When did you draw these, hmm? D’you think of me often? Does your mother know you're sketching me like this?” He moves closer to you with every question until he’s so close you can’t breathe.
“It's- it's not you. Stop teasing me and give me my pictures back.”
“It's not?” He holds up a sketch that's most definitely him. From his strong, straight nose, to his chiseled torso and long thick legs. It's all Lloyd. Back before you knew he was a total creep, that is.
He put up a good front for maybe a year before you went off to college, but after that? Every time you came home from school on break, between semesters, for a quick weekend trip, he was always there. In your space. Demanding attention like a fucking toddler.
And of course your traitorous body still responded to him. No matter how much you hated how he stared, how he goaded you or touched you not so innocently when your mother wasn't looking, you still felt that pulse of heat. That shift under your skin like he was pulling some invisible string.
And now he knew. He knew that at least some part of you, somehow, thirsts for him too.
“Fine. It's you. You caught me. I had a little school girl crush on you once upon a time. But it's over. You're my stepfather for fuck's sake, Lloyd. It's not appropriate.”
“Appropriate? What's not appropriate is my little girl lying to me.”
“Oh fuck off-”
Lloyd is on you in an instant. With one hand on your arm and the other around your throat he has you caught.
“Watch your language, kitten. Don't make daddy angry now. Not when he's learned how much his little girl cares for him.”
You gulp against his fingers, holding back the whine in your throat. It's not fair how quickly your panties soak and stick uncomfortably to your skin. It's not fair that this douchebag has this effect on you, but you can't help it. Can't help the part of you that wishes he's grip your throat tighter until you see stars. Or that he'd throw you down on the rug and take you with your bedroom door open.
“Please,” you squeak out.
Lloyd's hungry mouth captures yours in a kiss that makes your knees buckle. His arm immediately wraps around your waist again, pulling you up against him. You hate how right it feels, being in his arms again.
As he shoves his tongue in your mouth, you can feel the thick length of his cock grinding against your core. Before you start to grind back he pushes you away. You're gasping for breath with his hand still on your throat.
“Lloyd.”
“Uh-uh. What's my name?”
When you don't say anything Lloyd turns and throws you down on the bed. The force of your back hitting the mattress makes you flail a bit and your sketchbook bounces to the floor.
Lloyd stands above you at the end of the bed.
“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer. The correct answer. Or do I have to show your ass I mean business?”
You try to scramble away up the bed but Lloyd catches you by your hips and drags you back down.
“Are you gonna be a good girl for me, kitten, or do we have to do this the hard way?” Lloyd practically growls in your face.
“No, sir,” you gulp when he grabs your chin and forces you to look him in the eye. “I'll be good.”
“Atta girl.” He pats your cheek and moves back to your hips, pulling down your sleep shorts and panties in one go. You'd planned to have a relaxing day at home before Lloyd showed up so you only wore those and an old thin t-shirt that Lloyd could absolutely see your nipples poking through.
You gasp at the abruptness of cold air on your pussy before Lloyd is pushing your spread knees to your chest and kneeling down on the floor.
“Hold these up. If you let them go while daddy feasts on your pretty pussy, you'll wind up over my knees.”
You nod and swallow down your shock but before you can respond Lloyd and his prickly mustache are buried deep in your folds.
Your head falls back with a whine as he rolls his lips over your clit and sucks.
His hands knead the flesh of your ass, a part of you you know he loves if the passing pinches and grabs are anything to go by.
The slurping sounds his mouth makes as he licks and sucks at your hole and clit are obscene. You can't contain your cries or the way your hands grip and tug at his short strands. And he likes it that way if the growls that reverberate against your pussy are anything to go by.
“Taste so fucking good kitten. I'm gonna stretch your tight little cunt out with my fingers and I need you to cum for me. Can you do that kitten?”
You nod, no longer thinking about what you're doing or how fucked up it is. All you care about is your need to cum.
“Please.”
Lloyd stops fucking your pussy with his tongue to ask, “Please what?”
“Please, daddy,” you pant.
“Good girl.”
Lloyd sucks your clit back into his mouth, at the same sliding two fingers into you, spearing your cunt open. He curls his fingers as he pumps them into you and finds that spot that makes your eyes roll back and flutter closed. Before you know it you're shouting, shaking as your release takes you over and you soak Lloyd's hand and chin.
“That's it, kitten. Fuckin look at you.” His fingers slow as you come down and it's like he doesn't want to take them from you the way he pulls away.
You watch in a gaze as Lloyd shucks his stupid white pants and boxers. How dare he be a douche and have the prettiest cock you've ever seen.
His eyes roam your naked form and you have a moment of self consciousness under his gaze. You shouldn't care what he thinks but you're not fit like the woman he's married to. You can't even begin to walk down that line of comparison without your head spinning. So you shake them away and focus on how filthy and hungry he looks covered in your juices, chest heaving as he lines up his long, thick cock with your pussy.
“Better than all the art in that book. All the art in the goddamn Louvre,” Lloyd says as he admires you. It’s like he knew you needed to hear it though, like he could see it on your face. He strokes his cock as he rubs it up and down your pussy lips. Every time his tip nudges your clit you jolt and whine.
“Shh, patience, baby.” His rough hand rubs your spread, thick thighs and he smacks them once, twice, over and over just to hear you cry out. That cruel smile takes over his handsome face again and the flat of his hand lands hard on your wet pussy. You cry out, tears springing to your eyes from the mix of pleasure and pain.
Lloyd grips your thigh where you already feel hot and sore and slides in, stretching your pussy impossibly wide around him. The way he forces himself in, you feel like you're gonna split in two.
“Too much,” you wince. “Lloyd I can't, I can't.”
“You can. You will.”
He leans down and captures your lips in a kiss, this one less brutal and much softer, sweeter like he's trying to ease your pain. You relax into him until you feel his pubic bone grind into your puffy clit.
“Oh fuck.”
“See. I knew you could kitten. Such a good girl taking daddy's big cock.” His hands rub soothing circles on your ass as he tilts you up higher and grinds into you deep.
You whine and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer.
“Please daddy. Please fuck me.”
You feel Lloyd's cock kick inside you and you tighten around him in return.
“God, you're gonna kill me, kitten.”
Suddenly he slides almost all the way out of you before slamming back in again. You scream and dig your nails into his thick shoulders.
Lloyd doesn't hold back and jackhammers into you, the force of his thrusts rattling your brain. He adjusts his grip, holding your knees practically to your ears, keeping you spread open and tilted back so he hits just the right spot every time.
It's not long before you feel that tightness coiling in your belly, clenching down on his cock as he slams in again and again.
“Gonna come again for me, kitten? That's it. Soak my cock, baby. Cum so I can fill your sweet little cunt up.”
He reaches between you to rub circles on your clit and the thread holding you tight finally snaps.
“Yes! Fuck daddy I'm coming!”
“Good girl, that's it baby.” Lloyd grits his teeth, groaning as warm spurts of his spend coats your walls.
There's so much it leaks around him and oozes out of you when he slides out.
“Fuck I love seeing you full of me.” Lloyd gathers his leaking cum on his fingers and pushes it back inside you. He laughs as you squirm, feeling raw and oversensitive.
“Lloyd,” you push at his hand.
“Don't push me away unless you want me to make you come again, kitten. Maybe two or three times.”
You gasp and pull back your hands, shaking your head.
“You sure?” He teases you as you pout. “Maybe later.”
Lloyd presses a kiss to your knee and helps you straighten out. You half expect him to leave you there, cold and empty, but he grabs your shorts and pulls them back on for you.
“Get up.”
Your legs are like jello but you stand.
Lloyd lightly wraps a possessive hand around your throat and kisses you soft and slow.
“You're mine now, kitten.”
“Yes, daddy.”
Oh how quickly you fold for this man.
“Your mother's gone for the weekend. Come keep me company,” he whispers against your lips. You nod and capture his mouth in another kiss.
“Yes, daddy.”
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blorbologist · 1 year
Text
Cat's Cradle, Chapter 14
Ch1 ... Ch13
The kittens, now old enough to go without food for a little more time, are somehow even more of a torment on Percy’s nerves than they were before. 
“Vex!” he calls, shrill. “We have fugitives!”
“They’ve started learning to walk, Percy,” she tosses back. From the kitchen, given how she echoes. “Of course they’ve escaped. They can’t get far.”
“Velcro was in the middle of the floor!”
He does not have to hear her sigh to know she makes it. He assumes she pads down the hall, slips over the babygate silent as ever, because she appears in the doorway. Finds him sitting on the floor with his convict in his lap, the tiny blue tom wiggling viciously as he tries to resume his grand exploration of the room. 
Percy, in turn, is greeted with Vex in an apron. Which is half of why he avoided cooking with her to instead give the kittens supper, because good gods is it a cute look on her. The kiss the chef reads like an invitation, or an instruction manual. A recipe for disaster. 
“We’ll need a box,” he declares around the lump in his throat, plopping Velcro back in the basket. Or trying to - the kitten clings, wailing in outrage, until Percival relents and lets it sit in the crook of his leg. Corralled, for now. 
“Or a playpen,” Vex muses, tapping the spatula to her lips. Her eyes flit to something, not Percy but past him, and she grins. “I’ll leave you to figure that out yourself. I’m sure you can manage, my clever man.”
She leaves him fumbling long enough for Velcro and Spanner to stumble out and mewl in surprise at how cool the floor is. 
--
With a soft playpen set up, Percy feels a lot better about leaving the kittens unsupervised, even if only for short bursts. 
Such as an impromptu brunch with friends. It is a rare stroke of luck, for time off to line up so adeptly. Perhaps easier, without Vax’ildan’s graveyard shifts leaving him dead tired all day or Keyleth’s numerous projects tripping her up. Emptier, too.
“Okay,” Scanlan is saying, sipping loudly on a mimosa. “But you’re sure it’s alright? Kaylie says she hasn’t seen your truck at the workshop in, like, a week.”
“You have your daughter spying on him? Creepy.” Grog makes a show of scoffing, shoveling pancakes into his mouth. Despite the attention on him, he makes to swipe the french toast off Pike’s plate before she dissarms him with her own fork. 
“No - she’s just invested, alright? Won’t stop talking about that shitty day.” Scanlan shivers. “Not that I blame her - I’d be pretty fucked up, too.”
Pike hums in agreement. “Is the cat doing okay? You said her name was…?”
“Curio.” Percy takes a bracing sip of his coffee. “Recovering well from the surgery, seems eager to get out of her crate and stretch her legs. Those she has left, at least. I worry she will ruin the stitching if given that freedom, however.”
“Oy, here’s a thought-” “Manners.” Scanlan rolls his eyes, finishes chewing and swallows before continuing: ”Why don’t we stop by? I mean, you and Vex won’t shut up about these guys, and I don’t know about you guys but I could use some cute in my life. And chicks dig kitten pics.”
Percy hesitates.
So far, these kittens have been theirs. Vex’ahlia and Percival’s little charges, in their own little world. Sure, they had brought them to the vet, and Kaylie’s keen eye had saved Curio’s life. They certainly shared more than enough pictures and videos for all their friends to know many kittens by name. 
But there is something about inviting others into this little nest that has a part of him bristling.
Grog tilts his head. “I’d like to,” he admits. “Wouldn’t it be good for them to, like, meet more people? Help them get more specialized.”
“Socialized, Grog.” Pike pats his knee. 
Percy nudges Vex, who has been slipping into a food coma. She’s so exhausted it pains him to see. “Vex’ahlia, dear, what do you think?”
She stifles a yawn against her hand. “I don’t mind either way,” she admits. “If you guys do come over, though, keep it down - I think I’ll be having a nap, if that’s alright.”
Even the goliath of a man, all tattoos and muscle, seems to read the reluctance in Percy’s gaze. “I’ll be gentle with them,” he promises. “I can be real gentle with the little things.”
Percy sighs. Smiles. “That’s true, yes.” 
--
“When we said little, I didn’t think - woah,” Grog breathes, eyes blown wide and enraptured by every little hair on the kittens’ heads. He and Pike are both on their knees peering into the playpen. Bleary from their nap, the litter is content to wiggle and chirp. Even the one in Scanlan’s hands is well-behaved.
“Hah! Look - he’s spitting at me.”
Or perhaps not, but that’s a perfectly reasonable reaction to Scanlan. 
“She,” Percy corrects with a glance. 
“Ohh, I like them spicy.” He only evades getting an elbow in the gut when Pike stops herself, clearly remembering the precious cargo he holds. 
Having Scanlan for scale really puts into perspective just how small these kittens are - even in his hands they’re fragile, even without a tremor beneath them they wobble. Percy’s heart lurches in his chest when they move - but no, Scanlan’s just sitting more comfortably, with his back to the bed. 
He offers a finger from his free hand for greeting. The verdict is ‘disgusting, I hate it’ until he scratches under that impossibly small chin. “What a cutie patootie. What’s her name?” asks Scanlan.
Pike, peering now over his shoulder, glances between Percy and the kitten. “That’s Bauble, right?” She beams when he nods, pleased they remembered. 
“You can hold one, if you’d like,” Percy offers as Scanlan declares, “I’m gonna get Kaylie a kitten.”
“No - no, you’re not.” He swallows his snappy tone - half the kittens are sleeping, and so is Vex. “You can’t just give someone a lifelong commitment.”
Grog giggles - all head turn to find he’s stuck his hand in the playpen, where a curious Ratchet is clumsily batting at it while Screwdriver watches wide-eyed and hopelessly confused. 
“Ain’t that what happened to you?” says Grog. “With Kaylie?”
Scanlan rolls his eyes. “I was joking. Wasn’t I?” He rubs his nose into Bauble’s fur. “Oh, wow, she smells like cuteness! And kind of milky?”
Percy relaxes a little as Pike leans over to get a good sniff of kittendown too, scooting into Scanlan’s side for a better angle to coo and cuddle. 
That does bring up a thought he’s completely neglected up to date. The kittens are… goodness, not quite two weeks? Two more months and they’ll be old enough to adopt out. How in the hells is he going to find enough homes - good homes - for six kittens? And Curio, too. If matching a half-dozen cute, playful little cats will be a challenge, how will they possibly get someone willing to take on a disabled, probably traumatized adult cat? 
He can practically feel his blood pressure spike. Percy carefully leans over the edge of the playpen to pluck Screwdriver (still watching Grog’s hand with something like awe) and settle her in his lap. His hands are shaking, but so is she, so it’s fine. 
(What if they choose wrong? What if the owners can’t care for the needs of the shaky kittens? Gods, Screwdriver wobbles so much - what if she falls, what if they let her outside, what if -)
“Oop, gotta tinkle.” Percy’s hand jerks up to see Grog stand and dust off his hands. He coos when Ratched stumbles after him, mewling. “Aww, I’ll be back. Where’s the bathroom Percy?”
“It’s to the right, Buddies,” Pike says, delicately running her fingers from Bauble’s head to her little pointy tail. Scanlan’s eyes are on her, not the kitten, and he looks quite like the cat that got the cream.
“Thanks, Pikey!”
Screwdriver mimics his glance up at Grog, which - yeah, sweetheart, he is very big, hm? Percy makes sure to lavish her with extra pets for her bravery. There’s nothing to be scared of, it’s Grog. 
And then Percy remembers, and scrambles to his feet, clutching her to his chest.
“Wait! Don’t go in the-”
He hears the bars of Curio’s crate rattle from here and breaches the doorway just in time to see Grog sheepishly shut the door behind him.
“Guess I’ll hold it in,” he says.
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