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stargirl-int3rlud3 · 7 months

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𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤.

straw hat crew x fem! reader

🗯 ! swearing, flirting, slight suggestive language !

synopsis; how i interpret opla characters would react to having a hyper feminine lover. — ♡ ᵎᵎ

LUFFY; Personally, Luffy doesn't really care too much what you wear. He thinks you look great in whatever you choose to wear. However, he is your biggest supporter and hype man. Constant compliments left and right about how gorgeous you are and how he's so lucky to have you. Luffy would definitely be one to treat you like a princess. I'm talking carries you around in his arms and puts a jacket done on wet puddles. He highly believes in chivalry and is the biggest gentleman.

You had just recently gotten a new, cute, pink skirt and today was the day you planned on wearing it. When you walk out of Luffy's cabin in the new clothing piece his eyes suddenly fall upon you. "Woah!! Is that new?" Luffy approaches you staring at the piece. "It is, you like?" You ask, spinning for Luffy, so that he gets a full view of the skirt. "Like it? I love it!!" He exclaims, lightly placing his hands on your hips to feel the texture of the skirt. Not too long after, Luffy is running left and right carrying you around in his arms. Some low-life, pirate was trying to attack Luffy and now here you were, tightly nestled against his chest as he tried his very hardest not to let a single stain of mud or any other substance onto your pretty little skirt that he now deemed one of his favorites.

ZORO; He LOVES him some hyper feminine girlies (and hyper feminine girlies love him). The constant slaps to your ass prove just how much he loves the way you dress. He loves admiring how great you look and the jealous looks he gets when men walk by you to see that such a pretty girl is situated on his lap. It boosts his confidence which can be both and good and bad thing. I like to think that Zoro is quite the possessive man and doesn't like sharing, which is why he feeds into your pink obsession. He loves watching your doe eyes beg for him to buy you a new cute pink outfit, he always seems to cave in.

You stare at Zoro through your beautiful lashes with a sweet, sincere smile on your face. Zoro caresses your face sweetly, before moving your head to the side to place even sweeter kisses along your neck until his lips brush up against your. "..I suppose you can get it, since you want it so badly"He smirks at you, staring deep into your doll-like eyes. You wrap your arms around Zoro's neck, "Eeeek!! Thank you so much Zoro, you're the bestest boyfriend ever!!" He watches as you race to the cash register with loving eyes. After shopping, Zoro convinced you to let him take you out for a nice dinner. Now that you're here you think part of it was because Zoro wanted to flaunt you off to anyone that would dare look your way. His smirk got wider and wider by the hour as men would make their way towards you just to quickly turn around at the sight of you so nicely sat in Zoro's lap. While you did find it cute that he wanted to flaunt you to the world you also found his overconfidence to be slightly...annoying at times as he would talk about a random guy's face drop rapidly at the sight of Zoro.

NAMI; Similarly to Luffy, she doesn't really care what you wear as long as you're comfy in what you're wearing. That doesn't mean she dislikes the way pink fits you so well. Nami could never really see herself wearing pink, so to see her lover wearing it so beautifully, she's awestruck to say the least. Due to Nami's sarcastic nature, she constantly is making princess jokes to you.

"Hey Princess, you need help getting down" Nami jokes as you're about to step off the ship. You roll your eyes playfully, following along, "Why yes I would, my knight" She smiles at you before laughs bubble from her throat and out of her perfect lips. You reach your hand out towards her, grazing your hand over her lips. She notices quickly, arching one of her eyebrows at the gesture. Retreating your hand back, you turn away from her with a slight pink across your face. Suddenly, you're dipped and met with a smirking Nami who delicately places her lips upon yours. Your palms meet her face as you pull her even closer than before. " Hey lovebirds, let's get our asses moving!" Zoro scolds you two with a slight look of disgust which leaves you and Nami giggling. "Sorry, Zoro, my princess needed her knight" She jokes nudging you softly.

SANJI; This man loves any woman who will give him the light of day. So the fact that you, a pretty hyper feminine girl, chose HIM. Oh, he fantasizes and daydreams about you like a schoolgirl with a crush. When you show off a new outfit to him, he is all ears and eyes and will tell you how every piece fits together so well to create a masterpiece fit so perfectly for you. I can see Sanji adding natural pink food coloring to your foods just to watch your face light up at the sight of it. Seeing you in cute pink crop tops and skirts as well as many other categories of clothing, makes Sanji want to get on his knees for you (not in that way- okay, maybe a little bit in that way). He is such a simp at heart and will do anything for you.

"Sanji? How is this outfit for lunch?" You ask posing for the blonde man who admired you greatly. "Anything you wear is utmost stunning as it is already being worn by a masterpiece" He explains his reasoning to you with a cute smile that you adore. You skip your way over to Sanji as he leads you to the dining area by your hand that is intertwined with his. He sweetly pushes you into your chair once you've sat down. Sanji sits close to you watching for your reaction as you take of the silver covering over your food. When the food is finally on display your eyes sparkle and you emit a sound of joy as you turn to see a lovesick Sanji. You grab his face placing lipgloss stained kisses all over his face and it's like he's in heaven with how lovesick he is. "You gotta bit of something like...all over your face" Nami points out to Sanji as he takes a quick peek in a mirror, only to fall to the floor with his eyes filled with hearts.

USOPP; We already know based off of the whole Kaya thing that this man is a nervous wreck when it comes to women which is surprising because I feel as though he has a quite a list of girls that would date him. Anyways! He, much like Luffy, is your biggest supporter with his constant stuttery compliments. He worships the very ground you walk on (literally), but he's just a bit nervous at times is all. He is also a big simp, but tries to hide it by being "calm and cool".

"Please Nami!!" You beg for the girl to let you decorate her hair. "For the last time, no" Nami told you sternly, leaving you pouting. You just wanted someone to do girly things with sometimes,but Nami never wanted to do the things you wanted to. What you didn't know was that Usopp was currently watch your sad, distressed face as you walk away from Nami. He hurries towards you stopping in front of you with a big grin on his features. You're somewhat startled by your lovers suddenly appearance, "Oh? Hi, Usopp!!" "What are you so sad for?" He asks, examining your face. "Oh...I wanted to do Nami's hair all pretty, but she seems to be annoyed with my asks" You inform the boy of the situation. "You could do mine, if you'd like" Usopp suggests. Your eyes shine brighter than a thousand suns as you jump into Usopp's arms, leaving a red hue on his face. "You would do that for me, Uso?" "Y-yeah, I don't see why not" He rubs his hand on the back of his neck, not being able to look you in the eyes. You kiss his cheek and drag him to your cabin.

☆ | this was SOOOOOO fun to write, i feel like i captured them pretty well :D

#luv₊˚꒰🩰꒱‧#opla x reader #opla #opla luffy x reader #opla sanji x reader #opla zoro x reader #opla nami x reader #monkey d luffy #nami #zoro #sanji #opla usopp x reader #usopp #one piece live action #opla luffy #opla nami #opla zoro #opla sanji #opla usopp

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seren1tyhaze · 2 months

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poison in my mind

PAIRING: idol!jisung x afab older stylist reader

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

SUMMARY: he has been your poison for years - Jisung with his innocent looking face, steely gaze, and wicked tongue. you do your best to keep a professional relationship with him during your work as a stylist for NCT Dream but his calls of "Noona" on set continue to test your patience.

AUTHOR NOTE: A VERY belated happy birthday to Andy Park and a big thank you to SM for letting us have that Poison live performance at the end of the year. This has been half written ever since the Poison track video behind vlog went up a million years ago but fueled even more by the dance intro at MMA. His more recent lives may have also served as inspiration. I hope you all enjoy this very self indulgent fic made especially for all my friends who also love Jisung <3

WARNINGS: explicit smut, idolverse, pet names (including Noona kink I'm so sorry)

PLAYLIST: Poison by NCT Dream, Quiet Down by NCT Dream, OK! by NCT U

dreaming 'bout you, dreaming 'bout you

~~ The set is buzzing with nervous energy in the dimly lit space, dark blue light cascading over the stage area dressed with large floral arrangements that almost make it look like the ocean floor. Renjun is talking to the camera filming their behind vlog footage and you look up from the shirt you are steaming when you hear his voice.

“Dream will try for the sexy vibe for the first time,” with a sly smirk.

You can’t help but chuckle as the makeup artist next to you elbows your side and you tut at her, waving the steamer to quiet her. It wasn’t a secret that the Poison track video was going to be beloved by fans because of the concept and the way the members were styled. You had been tasked with pulling some of the key looks for the video, taking an opportunity to incorporate different textures like the metal grommets and fringe on the leather jacket Renjun currently was wearing. You watch proudly as he stretches his arms over his head in the center of the flowers, torso muscles rippling under the sheer mesh shirt.

You hadn’t been on staff for very long, a couple years of working under the main stylist under your belt. They had been hesitant to give you bigger opportunities due to your young age and lack of experience, but your boss saw that you had a great eye. It didn’t hurt that you were always the first one to volunteer for less than desirable tasks and always arrived early to shoots and stayed late.

“Sorry, this one’s a little too small, did you have others?” comes a voice behind you and you turn to see Mark, holding out one of the large metal rings you had laid out for him in his dressing room.

“Oh sorry, yes, of course,” you reply, smiling softly at him before kneeling down to dig in your bag for the small pouch holding the extra accessories. He was always so polite to the staff, greeting everyone and even when he was clearly exhausted, doing as many takes as the director needed.

“This one might work better and it’s adjustable,” you reply, taking his hand and sliding the ring on his pointer finger. You squeeze his hand gently before he inspects the rings, holding it out in front of him.

“Noona,” comes a harsh and low voice suddenly, causing you to move your head to the side of Mark’s leather clad legs to see an annoyed looking Jisung with crossed arms, shirtless and barefoot.

“Jisung, where is your shirt?” Mark replies, half laughing as he turns to face him, scratching at the back of his neck.

Ignoring him, Jisung returns his gaze to you and glares at your crouched position on the floor in front of Mark. A curious Renjun walks up at this moment, peeling a tangerine and flicking narrowed eyes between the three of you. Mark shrugs at him before walking away, answering a message on his phone.

“You tailored the crotch of these pants wrong, it feels weird,” Jisung continues, voice even and tinged with frustration.

Your face flushes at this, dropping the pouch back in your bag and grabbing your pins, suddenly on your feet and in front of Jisung.

“How do you know it’s wrong?” you ask, knitting your brows together as you look up at him.

He looks good and you know he knows it. Something has shifted in Jisung in the past year - especially since they returned from tour. He carries himself differently, with a different level of confidence and wears it well. Today is no different and the fact that he just barged onto set without a shirt on is evidence. His dark blue hair is styled perfectly, long strands dangling in his eyes and contrasting beautifully with his sharp jawline.

“Here, feel,” he tells you simply, pulling your hand to his crotch and you almost let yourself palm him through the tight denim until you snap back to reality and pull your arm back. His eyes hold no emotion, dark and still, long eyelashes blinking at you temptingly. His lips are soft and plump and you want nothing more than to close the distance between the two of you and taste the glossy lip mask.

And there it is, your poison, Park Jisung. When you had graduated early from your program a few years ago, you had been focused on your career and hadn’t spent much time dating. You had some people you went out on dates with every once and a while and had your fair share of waking up in a stranger’s bed after a long night out. But Jisung had caught you by surprise. Something about the way he was so forward and aggressive with you made your brain turn to mush around him. Your heartbeat would quicken, palms sweat, and filthy thoughts would swirl in your mind until you could indulge in them with your hand pressed between your thighs later that night.

A heavy sigh comes from Renjun, accompanied by a shake of his head, as he walks out a nearby door muttering something about not wanting to see Jisung’s dick.

You flush violently, grabbing at Jisung’s bicep harshly and pulling him to his dressing room, leaving the door propped open intentionally as you take the layered black tank off the hanger and hold it out to him.

“Please put the rest of your outfit on, I think they are going to be ready for you soon,” you sigh as soon as you’re alone, reaching for the box that holds the platform boots you were reusing from a shoot with Haechan a couple months prior.

You both move silently as he pulls the shirt over his head, staring at the long leather cords before lifting his head back up to you. You move behind him, reaching over his broad shoulders to pull the leather cords around his neck and then letting the ends dangle in front of his toned chest. You try to avoid brushing your hands against his bare shoulders as he steps into the boots and ignore that his ass brushes against your stomach when he bends down slightly to zip them up.

“I just don’t know about these pants, are they the right length?” he asks, tugging at the material at his thighs. His tone is whining and defiant, lighter than how he was in front of everyone, but still slightly combative. He knows you’re weak for this very tone, as he can usually get you to do whatever he wants if he just adds it into whatever he says.

You sigh and move around him, dropping to your knees at his feet, slapping his hand away from pulling at the fabric. You pull the pants leg out of his left boot, pulling lightly and examining the hemline. You’re about to correct him when you suddenly feel his hand soft on your hair.

“You look so good from this angle,” he murmurs, voice low and sultry, causing you to jerk your head up and look at him from the floor.

Your lower lip is instantly caught in your teeth, sinking into the flesh deeply as you try to control your breathing, unable to stop yourself from blinking up at him. You feel drawn into his dark eyes and his hand in your hair is almost overwhelming.

He lets out a groan, tightening his fingertips on your scalp, exhaling audibly and clenching his other hand into a fist at his side.

“What am I going to do with you,” he tuts, dropping his hand to your chin and gripping it gently.

You rise from your knees, glancing at the open door just as Jaemin bounces by, screaming at something Haechan is doing. Suddenly aware of where you are, you step forward, adjusting the cords aimlessly.

“What happened to my sweet, innocent Jisung?” you whisper, staring at the soft skin of his collarbone and wishing you could press your lips against it forever.

“Don’t act surprised. You created this monster, Noona, dressing me in all these sexy outfits. How could you think I would stay your bright eyed baby Sungie forever?” he asks back, tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear. His words are biting, even if they do hold some truth.

Memories of him dozing off on your shoulder during long bus rides and hastily helping him into heavy jackets and necklaces during quick changes on tour come flooding in, mixed with the heavy, lustful stares you feel on you when you wear a low cut shirt or on hot summer days in Thailand when you wore thin athletic shorts in the airport.

He had kissed your lips gently a year ago after many bottles of soju and when the rest of the members were preoccupied by endless rounds of karaoke. You had stopped him then, told him that as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Ever since that moment, he had made every effort to get you alone when he could, using every excuse under the sun, today’s outburst nothing new. You still remember how soft his lips felt on yours and the fire under your arm as he held you close after you rejected him.

Back on set, you’re packing up your bag again when you’re called over to check something on the computer from Jeno’s scenes. You give your feedback and suddenly your eyes are drawn up to where Jisung is filming, camera close to his face, light illuminating his beautiful features perfectly.

“Dreaming ‘bout you, dreaming ‘bout you,” echoes across the large soundstage and your heart is pounding in your chest as he plays with the cords at his neck, just as you had earlier, chests pressed up against each other in the dressing room. He makes eye contact with you briefly when the take ends and you look away quickly, embarrassed.

While you had been released to go for the day, you take your time packing the rest of your stuff, helping the makeup artists clean their station and even rearranging some chairs that barely needed adjustment. You watch the way he moves confidently, take after take, adjusting the jacket so his shoulders show boldly against the dark material. His fingers brush through the cords, pulling them up to his teeth at times before dropping them, leaving plump lips open before cracking a large smile at the reaction of the staff. In between takes he shakes his dark hair, casting his gaze down to the floor until someone asks him a question. You watch as he smiles and winks at the makeup artist powdering his cheek and you feel nervous energy stir in your stomach. You can’t bear to watch much more, so you slip out when he isn’t looking in your direction.

When you finally are home, feet pushed into fluffy slippers and sipping on steaming green tea you had just prepared, you peel the sheet mask off and rub the remaining serum into your cheeks and forehead. You are flipping through a magazine your coworker had given you on set, paying attention to the tabbed pages they had flagged for inspiration when your phone buzzes on the table next to you. A message from the head stylist fills your screen as you tap into it.

Jisung left his street shoes at set, did you take them home? He said he “needs them” for tomorrow.

You sigh and go to the shoebox by your door to find his Nike sneakers tucked neatly, laces wrapped nicely. You quickly reply to your boss, saying you don’t mind bringing them to the dorm since you know the managers had a late night meeting tonight. Running a brush through your hair, you dot some perfume on your wrists and behind your ear before grabbing your keys.

You fiddle with the edge of your oversized sweater in the elevator as you climb the floors to his dorm, feeling a nervous pit grow in your stomach. Finally outside, you knock quickly before dropping it down to hold the box with both hands.

The door swings open and Jisung is standing tall in front of you, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair damp. A dark zip-up hoodie covers his chest and it’s unzipped just enough that you can tell he isn’t wearing a shirt underneath. You can’t help but let your mind wander back to shirtless Jisung pulling your hand to his crotch earlier and wonder if he was just lounging in his room in the sweatpants. Or worse, just his boxers.

“Hi baby,” he slurs out, lips curving up at the edge into a mischievous smile as he props his arm up on the door, leaning down as if he might kiss you. His sweatshirt hikes up on his waist when he does this, revealing a large swath of skin.

You shove the box at him, pushing him back into the room with it, letting it drop into his hands. You fling your bag on the table near the door and step out of your shoes.

“Don’t hi baby me, Park Jisung. I know you left these there so you could see me tonight. Did it really take you multiple hours to realize you weren’t wearing the shoes you came in?” you reply with a huff, picking up a sealed water bottle on the kitchen counter and taking a long sip.

Sweat is pricking at your hairline and you are starting to regret not texting one of the assistant managers or drivers to come get the shoes instead.

Jisung chuckles and sets the shoebox on a chair, reaching out to take the water bottle from you and gulping down the rest.

“Don’t be mad, baby,” he replies, leaving heavy emphasis on the pet name, stepping closer to you and wrapping strong arms around your waist, thumbs instantly finding the hem of your sweater and travelling across your lower back.

You can’t help how your body reacts to his touch, feeling your chest meet his, nipples hardening under the knit fabric now tugged down and exposing your cleavage. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to speak, looking up at him through your eyelashes for the second time today.

“Come on, I’m catching up on our show,” he says softly, lips grazing across your cheek gently. You had been watching the same show for the past few months, texting each other during episodes here and there, and chatting about it whenever you saw each other. He had complained none of the other members would watch it with him and while you would never let him know this, you had lied and said you were also planning to watch it.

Against your better judgement, you let him guide you to his small room, where his large tv is paused on the latest episode of the space docuseries.

“Oh, I haven’t watched this one yet,” you admit, dropping down to sit at the edge of his bed.

He clicks to restart the episode and unzips the sweatshirt, moving to remove it and reveal his bare chest.

“Jisung,” you say sternly and he chuckles, zipping it back up halfway, and plopping down on the bed next to you. He pulls the hood up over his dark hair for good measure before propping himself up against the pillows he has leaned against the wall. You settle back, leaving some space between the two of you and pulling a hamster plushie into your lap to nervously fiddle with.

While your eyes had started to get heavy back at your apartment, you are now wired, your body coursing with electricity and hypersensitive to every movement from the man next to you. He reaches for his phone occasionally, letting out light chuckles at messages from Chenle and even daring to post a couple Bubble messages. You thank whatever higher power exists that your phone was still tucked in your bag at the door, so he didn’t see yours light up when he sent the message. It was a drunken guilty pleasure you had indulged in and ever since receiving the first message tailored with your name, you couldn’t stop yourself from renewing the subscription.

His legs keep brushing against yours when he readjusts his position on the bed and somehow has gotten so close that his shoulder is now brushing against yours. You try to shift away, but he only closes the distance again when you do so. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re having a difficult time focusing on the show.

Suddenly the screen is filled with bright colors as they depict beautiful graphics of what scientists imagine the birth of a star looks like and a gasp falls from your lips as you lean forward, eyes flickering across the screen to take in the beautiful scene.

“You’re so pretty when you nerd out over this stuff,” comes his low voice, suddenly close to your ear, hand resting in the middle of your back.

You lean back in reaction, trapping his arm between you and the pillow, turning slightly to face him.

“Coming from NASA’s number one stan, please,” you reply lightly, shoving the plushie at him playfully. You let a chuckle fall from your lips and shake your head lightly, causing your hair to cascade over your shoulders.

He grabs at it and throws it off the edge of the bed, hands suddenly tight on your hips and pulling you into his lap, possessively gripping your ass as you straddle his legs.

Your lips drop open in surprise, both of you breathing heavy at the sudden movement. You feel your responsible self tapping your shoulder but finally decide to let the years of desire bubble to the surface and propel your lips to close the gap with his.

You move your lips across his gently, resisting the urge to push your tongue out immediately or bite down on his lower lip. He tightens his grip on you in response, pushing his crotch up to meet yours. You swear you can feel him through his pants which only makes you want him more.

He pulls away, taking your cheek in his other hand and looking between your eyes as if searching for some sort of silent answer to a silent question. You can almost see his own voice of reason forcing him to pause, if only for a moment.

“You ready to deal with the consequences of that monster you created, Noona?” he asks in a devastatingly low tone before moving his lips down to mouth at your chest, pushing the knit fabric to the side to bite at your shoulder.

A sigh falls from your lips as you let your head roll back, entire body on fire as he marks the skin at your neck, teeth sharp on your skin. You can’t help as your hands slide over the zipper of his hoodie and unzip it slowly, pushing the fabric down his shoulders to expose his toned chest. Running your hands over his hard muscles, you dig your fingernails gently, eliciting a deep groan from Jisung.

“Babyyy,” he sighs out, sliding his hand up to your throat and applying pressure there, pulling you forward to meet your lips again. The kiss is more urgent this time, tongue pressing deep into your mouth and hand gripping you tighter as he continues.

You let your hands slide down his torso, running over his abs and sliding them to his back to pull yourself closer to him. Before you can pull yourself fully flush against his chest, you are being flipped over, head falling back into the pillowy surface.

“Are you sure about this,” you ask, voice wavering despite every intention you had to form a confident question. Your eyes are flicking between his dark ones, as they had many times before, but suddenly holding so much more meaning in this intimate space.

“Are you not?” he asks back, head cocking lightly to the side, thumbs never stopping the circles they are rubbing into your hip bones.

“That’s not an answer,” you quip back, grabbing onto his hands to force him to focus. Unfortunately for you, it did the exact opposite.

You pull your eyes away from his, looking at your hands now pressed up against each other against the comforter. Your hand looks tiny next to his, his fingers could almost wrap fully around the tops of yours and that makes your mind fuzzy. You pulse your fingers, stretching them along his, feeling the length of them and how hot they are to the touch.

“Noona,” he calls, not as harsh and biting as on set, but still drawing you back to reality quickly.

His voice finally softens as he sees your watery blinking eyes, overstimulation creeping up on you before you’ve done much more than make out. He drops his thumb down the side of your face, caressing the space between your ear lobe and jaw tenderly. You want to look away, you want to push up and capture his lips in yours, you want to pull that stupid hamster plushie over your face and hide your burning cheeks.

“You know, I want it, I like,” he states, as if that is a full sentence other than in the context of the song they were filming with all day. His lips turn up in a small, shy smile at the end, showing a glimpse of that quiet boy you’ve always known and your heart settles a little in your chest. You nod rapidly a few times, sinking your nails into the palm of his hand and letting your eyes flutter shut.

His lips are on yours again quickly and that wicked hand that was just caressing your skin is now tightening around your neck again, which forces you up into an arch on the bed, pressing your lower body against his hardening cock. His tongue feels hot and wet in your mouth and you can’t help the moans that are escaping every time you have to pull back for air.

He sits up, straddling either side of your legs, tugging at your shirt and you manage to sit halfway up on your elbows, almost tearing the delicate fabric of your sweater as you rip it off, fumbling with the clasp of your bra as Jisung’s mouth is suddenly latched onto your neck, dropping heated kisses down your collarbone.

He sees you struggling and simply presses a strong thumb to the clasp, letting the cotton fabric slide off your arms and he tosses it clear across the room. This draws your attention to the door, which you realize now is cracked and you pray to every higher power that Renjun isn’t home.

“Hey, eyes on me,” comes the low voice above you again and you’re drawn back in, tuning out the distractions around you. He seems more amused than annoyed, which you have to appreciate given how long you’ve both waited for this exact moment.

Jisung makes quick work of removing his pants and boxers, reaching for a condom from his nightstand as you push down your own sweats, pausing at the thin band of your underwear. He sees you, dropping the foil packet to the bed and dips his head down, teeth dragging the elastic quickly, causing you to jump and let out a giggle.

“SUNG!” you yell weakly, trying to push his dark blue locks away as he continues to drag the dampened fabric down your legs.

He somehow manages to do it pretty easily, without getting too caught up on your knees or thighs, only struggling once he’s at your ankles and ripping them off with his hand, letting them drop to the floor with your bra.

He simply shrugs at you, a smile tugging at his mouth as he smooths those huge hands over your thighs, kneading the flesh there, eyes transfixed on your naked body. Your whole body is on fire and you silently beg for him to get on with it, even as it looks like he is about to swallow you whole.

A creeping monster your in your brain tells you you should feel more self conscious with him seeing you like this, despite both being equally exposed, realizing how many times you’ve seen him half clothed or even less. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he reaches up, covering your breast easily with his hand, thumb teasing your nipple absently. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t help but hold your breath as pleasure begins to flood through your body.

You beg your own gaze not to lower, not ready to see the size of him fully hard. You’ve unfortunately seen almost all the members’ dicks but usually in quick, embarrassed, accidental glimpses. Well, except for that one time Jaemin was literally helicopter swinging it around in the dressing room when you walked in with a tray of iced americanos. Both him and Jeno couldn’t speak to you for two weeks while Chenle continued to bring it up every chance he could, even mimicking the motion during sound check at their next stop.

You are startled at the sound of him tearing the condom wrapper, rolling it quickly on and leaning back down, face inches from yours as he cups the side of your face again. You instinctively nuzzle lightly into his hand at the contact, letting your eyes flutter shut as you draw your lips to his hand, smelling faintly of the lube from the condom. You kiss in between his thumb and forefinger lightly and before you know it, he’s slipping his thumb in between your spit covered lips, pad of his finger gently pressing against your tongue.

You gasp but drag your eyes lazily to meet his, knowing your own hunger is visible now not only in your gaze but also in the eager sucking of your lips.

He groans, taking the chance to push into you and you swear you see stars. Your eyes widen but pull his thumb further into your mouth, teeth grazing across the tip of his finger erratically as your hips buck up to pull him impossibly close.

Jisung’s eyes are fluttering shut, thumb dropping from your lips, now flushed red with teeth marks and slick with spit, sliding down to clutch your throat once again. Your own hand flies to your chest, groping at yourself, desperate for something to hold onto as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

He’s quiet, but with deep and passionate groans tumbling from his lips every once and a while. You watch as sweat begins to form at his hairline, perfect face beautiful in the dim light of his room, quiet music floating from his tv’s speakers as the episode is long forgotten and scrolling through the credits screen endlessly. Each noise that bubbles up from his chest equally soothes and paralyzes you, your own personal brand of poison seeping coldly through your veins. Your lips are perpetually hung open, mouth becoming so dry you can barely squeak out your own moans.

You feel your orgasm building suddenly after a particularly strong thrust and you swallow harshly, moving to speak to alert him. He doesn’t need any warning, reaching down to throw your leg over his shoulder and angle his lower body to perfectly hit that same spot over and over.

In seconds the poison is washing over you, lapping first at your feet like waves at the shore, nearly knocking you out as you float high above yourself, almost feeling like you’re having an out of body experience. Your chest is heaving as he slows his movements, as if he’s going to pull out.

A confused look forms on your face, head cocking to the side as you grip his arm, shaking your head wildly. Your hair is sticking to the back of your neck and you feel too hot on his plush bedding, but that isn’t reason to stop.

“Wait…what about…” you ask, confused, knowing he hasn’t come. Your eyes flick to the door again, wondering if he’s heard something while you were swimming a galaxy of bliss post orgasm.

He smiles at you, sliding out slowly and disposing of the condom quickly. He walks back over and takes your hand, bringing you to rise on shaky legs, standing naked beside his bed as he takes both your cheeks in his hands and kisses you deeply on the lips.

“I was thinking it would be better to continue what we started on set,” he purrs against you when he finishes ravaging your swollen lips.

A mischievous look forms in your eyes and you drop your hand to his stiff cock, giving it a few experimental pumps with the mix of lube and pre cum.

“Oh yeah?” is all you can reply, sinking slowly to your knees, still managing to tease him at this moment. You drop your hands to let them rest at your thighs, pressed together in an attempt to cool the burning heat still there.

He hisses out as soon as he can see you below him, bicep flexing as he runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head in feigned annoyance. His lids are heavy and all you can see are the whites of his eyes as they roll up in ecstasy.

You run your hands up your body, fingering the side of your neck and then tangling your fingers in your own hair seductively, never looking away from the man standing above you.

“Show me how good you can be for me, Noona,” he grunts out suddenly, gripping your chin way tighter than he had in the dressing room earlier. You grit your teeth but try to keep your face even as he tilts your head lightly, as if studying your face.

You gulp audibly and take him in your hands, finally faced with what you already knew was going to be stretching your cheeks as you were definitely going to struggle fitting him in your small mouth.

You tongue at his slit teasing it gently before sucking at the tip, letting it rest in your open mouth, eyes flicked up at him menacingly. You can tell from the look in Jisung’s eyes that he is dying to ram his cock down your throat but is trying so hard to let you set the pace.

Without any warning, you're sliding him further and further into your mouth, hands massaging his smooth calves to ground you. He’s getting louder now and one of his hands is playing in your hair, every once and a while gripping it tighter.

It only takes a few gentle thrusts till his voice becomes more strained and he’s tapping you on the head as a poor attempt of warning you he’s close. You resolve to let him spill into your mouth, but as soon as he comes the sudden movement causes most of the mess to land on your cheek and shoulder.

His loud exclamation of his pet name for you still ringing in the air, his hand loosens in your hair and you’re on your feet, hands settling on his broad chest, a hazy look of satisfaction on your face.

He seems mesmerised by you covered in his cum and draws a thumb up to that same spot between your ear and jaw, sliding it down and through the mess he made on your face. It’s as if everything’s moving in slow motion as your bottom lip drops open without a word and he slides his thumb into welcoming lips. You taste him, all of him, as he watches you suckle on the digit and blush form on your cheeks under the shine of your skin.

“Fucking filthy baby,” he whispers out, yanking you towards him as he sits on the edge of his bed and lifts you into his lap.

You can feel him harden under you and feel yourself warm up as his cock brushes against your core. You grind down on his lap which is met by him only gripping your waist tighter and landing a light smack on your ass. You grin at this and lean forward to kiss him, pushing your tongue greedily into his mouth.

“Already wanting more?” he asks with a mild mocking tone when you pull back, breathless and red in the face. He’s fully groping your ass at this point, massaging your cheeks with his fingers and pressing his palms into the thick flesh there.

You nod aggressively as you grind down on his cock again, spreading your thighs a bit more for better leverage. You want nothing more than for him to slide his bare cock into you right here and let you ride him through multiple orgasms, your tits bouncing right at eye level as he groans into your mouth through open mouthed kisses.

He merely laughs, pulling you out of your fantasy and reaches awkwardly for another condom, hand firmly keeping you in place.

“As much as I want what you want right now baby, let’s make sure there’s no-“ he starts out, rolling the condom on with shaky hands.

“SUNG, PLEASE!” you yell, clasping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

Even in the midst of it all, all the lustful years leading up to this moment, all the hidden glances and late night drunken thoughts, he is still your poison. Something that worms its way into your mind, into your heart. Normally, you wouldn’t even imagine being this close to someone without protection but somehow, Jisung does something to you that makes you want to be reckless. You want to be reckless with your heart, let it be swallowed whole by him. You want to throw your body on him, let him tear you down and degrade you and use you. You want to give him everything and every bit of love you can offer. You think you can see the two of you growing old together, sitting quietly in a park watching your grandchildren play together in the distance.

But you see, that’s the problem with poison. It gets in your veins, in your lungs, in your heart and slowly sweeps and finally, finally tears you down. You float high above yourself again, seeing stars as Jisung releases into the condom and his head falls against your chest. You are both quiet and unsure of what comes next. The poison of this night will wear off soon and reality will set in, leaving you only the memories of this night to return to in your dreams.

#nct smut #nct fanfic #nct x reader #park jisung #jisung x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #jisung smut #park jisung x reader

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sinlizards · 2 years

Photo

“He clutched onto his foolish pride too fiercely... and died for it.”

[Image description: A digital drawing in a slightly lineless and textured style. The piece is of Phoenix Wright from Ace attorney, drawn without his jacket on and kneeling on the floor with his back to the viewer. He is hunched over, shaking slightly and clutching a red suit jacket to his face. The colour from the jacket seems to be seeping onto his fingers, dripping to the floor like blood into a puddle. Both the background and floor are black, only the red liquid and a crumpled sheet of paper standing out against the dark floor. /End image description] desc provided by @toadstoolillustrations

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #NaruMitsu #wrightworth #miles edgeworth #? hes implied #aa2 #ace attorney justice for all #my art #fan art #lizard makes yet another piece about phoenix's misplaced guilt #2022

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deceitfuldevout · 7 months

Text

Naughty Little Thief

Dark!Jackson Rippner x Theif!Reader

Word Count: +5,416

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Theft, Stalking, Manhandling, Forced Oral (m receiving), Forced Stripping, Forced grinding, Unwanted orgasm, Classism, Verbal abuse, Partial loss of virginity, Rimming (f receiving), Public sex, Humiliation.

Author's Note(s): I'm bored at work and wanted to kill some time before studying. Here's more Cillian content.

It's the holiday season, and you end up pickpocketing the wrong person. He makes sure you'll regret ever crossing paths with him.

You felt bad for what you were about to do. But he didn't seem like he was financially struggling. So of course, you decided to pickpocket the stranger. Deep down you hated it, but there was no other choice. It was either this or going hungry tonight. At the end of the day it didn't matter, money was money. That was the mindset that's kept you alive for so long. You spot the chosen victim, he's a businessman, seemingly in his thirties, wearing an expensive tailored suit. Jackpot.

You wind your way through the crowd of shoppers, scurrying towards the unsuspecting man. You're right beside him, giving a light pinch to his left side. As soon as he turns to find the source, you quickly reach into his right pocket and pull out his wallet, scurrying into the crowd to disappear. That was almost too easy. You could tell by the texture alone that it was expensive. You turn it around and read the embroidery on the flap, 'J. Rippner'. A man who has good taste.

But before you could open it, someone grips the back of your neck. A large leather hand digs into your skin. You cry out, dropping the wallet as both of your hands reach for the stranger's. He turns you to face him. It's Rippner, and he's pissed, "Where the hell do you think you're going? Hm?"

"I...I.." you were at a loss of words. He drags you by the arm into the nearest alleyway. You look around for someone, anyone who would see what was happening and stop him. No one, of course. Who would help a thief like you? He slams you hard against a brick wall, your head throbbing in pain from the impact. It takes you a while to catch your breath as all the air had escapes your lungs. He uses his body to trap yours between the cold stone, caging you with him.

He growls, "You wanna steal from me you thieving little bitch?!", he's fuming, "I should drag your ass straight to the police station," he hisses, his features twisting with anger. You could tell by those cold, piercing eyes that he was not an easily forgiving man. Yet still, you tried to persuade him, "W-wait! Please! I'll do anything! I-I swear!"

Jackson pauses for a moment, his eyes flickering up at down your quivering form. He's thinking of something that would satisfy his growing hunger, "Show me your tits," for a moment, you couldn't believe what he had just said, brows furrowing in confusion, "I-I'm sorry?" you look at him as if he'd grown two heads. He leans in, now grumbling, "Show me those tits, and I'll decide if you're worth letting go,"

His hands grip the front of your jacket as he unzips it. He rips open the buttons off your blouse, ignoring your protests. Finally reaching a lacy bralette hidden under all those layers. He whistles, "Well I'll be damned, you weren't expecting anyone, were you?" he mocks. Your fingers dig into his arms, but it was futile. You bare your teeth at the man holding you hostage, "Go to hell you perv!" that remark only worsens your situation. He drags the fabric down, revealing both your breasts to the winter air.

You gasp, trying your best to cover them. A leather gloves reaches to twist one of your buds. His voice is stern, "I'm sorry, what was that?" pulling harshly at the sensitive nub. You yelp from his touch, retreating in hopes that he would halt his actions. You were wrong, instead that bratty tone from earlier, landed you a harsh slap on the chest. His gloves didn't ease the impact. He delivers strike after strike against your bare flesh. Until both buds began to peak on their own.

He fondles them in his hands, eyeing his work, "Nice tits..." he gives both of them a squeeze, pulling them towards him, "Very responsive..." his deep voice now a purr. All you could do was glare back at him with tearful eyes, trying your best not to cry. You hadn't expected a complete stranger to be so cruel. You, a literal thief.

Jackson dips a finger into your mouth. When you try to bite down, he delivers a light tap on your jaw. Holding the back of your head with an iron grip as he points in your face, "Don't even think about it, I'm not joking I'll drag your sorry ass bare naked down the streets," he threatens. His hands reach around your waist. He yanks your pants down to your ankles. Exposing your bottom half to him.

He takes a look at the panties you were wearing. Staring back at the teddy bear print and smirks, "How adorable..." his fingers slide in between your legs, caressing the now slick folds though the fabric. You turned your head to the side to see if any onlookers would pass by. He notices and angles his body to cover your form. He whispers in your ear, "Shh...I just need you to help me, and I'll help you, then we're even," it sure as hell didn't feel like it.

He reaches around the waist of your panties, slowly sliding off your underwear. He groans at the sight of it, licking his gloved digits before sliding them up and down your slit. You whine from the light, sensual touches. He reaches for your opening, collecting any wetness. His breathing increases, as does yours. He captures your bud in his hand, teasing it until you almost lost footing. You grip his shoulder for balance. He chuckles, "Oh you like that, don't you?" he teases. That earns him a harsh slap.

You were done being his little plaything. No more, you weren't going to whore yourself out to anyone. Especially not to some trust-fund baby. His head whips the other way, strands of his hair now dangling against his forehead. His cheek twitches, as if there were a battle going on inside him, "Oh, you've fucked up now..." both his hands are around your neck, squeezing it as hard as he could. You try fighting back, fingers digging into his wrists.

But it was futile, there was no way of stopping him. When your vision begins to blur and grip starts to weaken, he lets go. You cough hysterically, trying your best to breathe again. He waits until you're done with the dramatics. He grips your chin, eyes boring into your own, "That, was a warning," he pushes both your shoulders down until you're on your knees, "This, is your punishment," slotting his foot in between both legs.

He forces you to sit on his leather shoe, tilting your head to look him in the eyes, "Get yourself off," he commands. By now, you know not to disobey his orders. You try testing the waters, the cold leather felt uncomfortable against your bare mound. It was almost unbearable. It takes a while before you collect any slickness. Your ears getting warmer despite the weather.

Rippner chuckles, he retrieves his foot before you've had a chance to finish. He examines his now wet shoe. He sneers, "Really? You're seriously getting off on me using you like this?" a cruel grin plays on his face. He presses his shoe against your bare pussy, he mushes it against the opening, "Of course you'd like that...you're nothing but filth..." his cruel words made you blink back tears. They feel hot gliding down your cheeks. It almost makes him feel bad for doing all of this to you. But then again, you did just try to rob him.

He sighs, "We've got to do something about that mouth of yours," he suddenly unzips his pants, pulling out his half-hard cock. Your eyes bulge at the sight of it, pressing your lips shut in protest. He held his girth in one hand and your hair in the other. Jackson glides his shaft across your face, his leaking tip smears precum on your cheek. He mockingly taps his cock against your lips. His voice is raspy, "Does this make you squirm?" he knew exactly what he was doing to you with those words.

He pinches the bridge of your nose to cut off any air supply, forcing your mouth to open. He doesn't waste any time shoving his member deep inside. His tip now touching the back of your throat. It makes your eyes water. The corners of your lips rip from the stretch of his girth alone. How it could fit, you hadn't a clue. Both his hands grip the sides of your head, as he begins to buck his hips. He groans, "Oh fuck...you feel fucking amazing..." moaning with each thrust.

He stops himself from going any further. He wants to cum inside, but not in your mouth. No, he'll save it for some other time. He pulls you away from his cock and you're an absolute mess. Spit and tears everywhere. He lifts you by the shoulders, pressing you against the brick wall, again. He aims his tip against your cunt. It takes you a moment to process what was happening. Then in a split moment both of your arms shoot out, "N-no! Not there!" You cried, "Anywhere but there!" your voice starts to break.

Even after losing everything, you still didn't want your first time to be with a complete stranger. He could do whatever he wants, just not that. His long fingers wrap around your neck, adding a bit of pressure as he whispers in your ear, "Oh? And why is that?" genuinely curious. Your answer is faint, almost silent. He didn't quite catch what was said, "I'm sorry, what was that?" he held your jaw in place so he could look at you in the face. There was no way, not at your age. Did he hear you correctly?

You were starting to get pissed off, "I said I never fucked before, asshole!" that had you receive a harsh slap on the ass, "Ow! Ow okay! I'm sorry, just stop already!" that explains a lot. How you managed to leave his gloves and shoe soaking wet. As much as Rippner wants to pump a load into that sweet pussy, he decides to save it for later. Instead, he flips you over, your bare chest now against concrete.

Jackson bites his lips. He can't believe he's getting on his knees for someone like you. He parts both your cheeks, spitting at your rim to get it nice and wet. He flattens his tongue, lapping it against the tight ring before thrusting it in. Your knees began to buckle, you use the wall for support. Pressing your face against the brick. He bobs his head to a rhythm, and you can't stop moaning. His tongue reaching deep inside the muscle. His free hand reaches to rub at your clit, while the other pumps his cock.

After a while he stands up, aiming his now leaking tip against the rim, "This is going to hurt, a lot," he starts to enter, pushing inch by inch. You squeal at the stretch. A gloved hand muffles your cries. He began to give short, small thrusts. He grunts from how tight you were. Almost climaxing from the squeeze you gave. He quickens his pace, wrapping his other arm around your waist for better leverage. From there he went on autopilot, ignoring your pleas to slow down. He simply couldn't, he doesn't want to.

Finally, he releases a load deep inside. You felt his hot spunk coating your insides. Your head felt heavy after already reaching your own orgasm. His head hung over your shoulder. His breathe felt warm, "I've been eyeing you for a while, little mouse," It's true, he's been watching you for some time. You had first caught his eye when his chauffer was stuck in traffic. He watched as you went into action. It was remarkable, that talent of yours.

He's been planning this for some time. Today he wanted to see you up close. He had to know more about you. Even asking his ride to drop him off a few blocks. Jackson purposely took this route knowing that he'd get robbed. He needed an excuse to talk to you, his little specimen of interest. He knew the exactly how you would steal from your victims. Although he couldn't feel the hand reaching into his pocket, it was pinch you gave to his side that indicated him the wallet had already been stolen. That was his sign to take over the situation.

His arms are still wrapped around your upper body, hands now playing with your tits, "I'm Jackson by the way, Jackson Rippner," he tells you while still buried deep inside, "You've been targeting this street for a while now, you live around here?" no answer. You downright refused to entertain him any longer. He gasps, "Oh...that's right I completely forgot..." he grips your hips, slowly pulling out his member. He hisses from the feeling. It's almost too good to stop.

He retrieves a napkin from his coat pocket and hands it to you. When you refuse to take it, he isn't mad. Although you were testing his patience. He helps you get changed, satisfied that you kept his load in. Your panties were probably soaked by now. Once the both of you were decent, he asks you again. Yet still, no answer. For that he lands another slap on the same spot. You yelp from the impact, "Here! I live here!" "I know that, but where? This is a shopping district, there aren't any homes in this area, so, answer my question: Where do you live?"

You look out the alleyway to a place across the street. He pulls you in, with an arm now wrapped around your waist. From a distance it seemed as if the two of you were lovers. You guide him to where you've been living in the past few months. Right across the street in a small, worn-out vehicle. Jackson raises a brow, "You live...in a car?" he sounds genuinely surprised.

It's the dead of winter. Not exactly the perfect time to be stuck out on the streets. But it was all you had. You turn around to face him, "Yeah well, some of us don't have daddy's money to get us by..." you scoff. He likes that answer. Good, you wouldn't have anyone to miss you. He grins from ear to ear, tilting his head, "If that's the case, you're coming with me," He drags you to a mysterious black car with tinted windows. Your feet drag against the pavement. You' we're too exhausted to fight back.

It felt uncomfortable trying to find a sitting position. Jackson hops in right after, sitting unbearably close to you. He held you close, like a lover would. He sighs with adoration, "You don't have to worry about your things because I'm keeping you," he taps the tip of your nose, "But no more stealing? Got it?" he'd rather not draw any negative attention your way. Jackson then hums a holiday tune, which one you didn't care. All you could think of was how much you regretted ever stealing from him. He held you close to him, stroking your hair before giving a chaste kiss, "Merry Christmas to me, eh?"

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cod-dump · 28 days

Note

"And Ghost, unfortunately for him and fortunate for Graves, was a sucker for a well made hoodie."

Now I'm picturing Ghost with a wardrobe full of comfort hoodies. Everyone thinks he just wears the same one day in day out but he actually has 12 near-identical black ones.

Cold-weather hoodie: fleecy lining, fits comfortably under a jacket without bunching up

Warm-weather hoodie: thinner fabric, front zipper can be left open for extra ventilation

Workout hoodie: ripped the sleeves off

Errands hoodie: slightly longer sleeves that he can pull down over his hands to keep the bags from cutting into his fingers

Going out hoodie: deep hood to shadow his face

Game day hoodie: Manchester United logo on the front

"Formal: hoodie: truest black, no rips holes or stains

Weapons maintenance hoodie: so many gun oil stains

Stole-from-Soap hoodie: tight, sleeves slightly too short

Lounging hoodie: loose fit, nice deep pockets for the hands

Bad day hoodie: softest and most comfortable hoodie, sleeve cuffs and hood strings are frayed from picking at them

Stolen-by-Soap hoodie: give it back you Scottish bastard

~@slashhinginghasher

Those are just the black hoodies, he also has some in a multitude of colors, all gifted to him. It’s obvious which ones that have a nice, tolerable texture from how often he wears them. Not to mention the hoodies he’s stolen from everyone on 141. He's stolen from Price (brown, army green), Gaz (a bit too small, blue and some light greens). Ghost would steal one from Laswell too but it wouldn't be possible... Which is why he has taken toboggans from her.

#call of duty #modern warfare #simon ghost riley #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #drabble

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081314 · 1 month

Text

Sebek Zigvolt - Platinum Jacket (Voice Lines)

Following is my translation of Sebek's voice lines for his platinum jacket card.

Spoilers after the cut

Summon

⚡: A hundred years of history are contained within this museum… Doubtless, portraits of our liege shall someday grace its halls.

⚡: We're to be supporters, eh… Very well, no matter the task, I always give it my maximum attention. Nary a patron shall pass me by without learning of the museum's splendor!

Home Lines

⚡: LET US CELEBRATE THE CENTENNIAL!

⚡: The card soldiers endeavored to satisfy each of the Queen of Heart's grueling demands, and I do not blame Deuce for admiring them so.

⚡: He keeps yawning, but could it be? That man there, admiring the artwork with such a serious gaze, could it really be Leona Senpai…?

⚡: For sixteen years the Thorn Fairy's subordinates worked diligently on a strenuous mission given to them by their Lady. What astounding loyalty!

⚡: Naturally, fine art is included amongst my studies. As one of Lord Malleus's retainers, one can never acquire too much knowledge.

⚡: That blasted Ace. He poked fun at me and then ran off. Don't just up and leave while someone's talking!

⚡: Even when surrounded by a swarm of soldiers, her magnificence is unparalleled. As expected of the Thorn Fairy; 'tis only natural she should be counted amongst the Great Seven.

⚡: As one of the Young Lord's guards, 'tis necessary for me to wear this sort of formal attire - and to wear it well.

⚡: Vil Senpai made a rather strange analogy earlier, about how painting is not unlike applying makeup, but I couldn't quite understand what he meant. I can't see how they're possibly related.

⚡: When admiring artwork in person, one is able to observe in great detail the texture of the paint, and where the artist left their brushstrokes behind. 'Tis not something one can gleam just from reading books.

⚡: You wish to explain this piece to me? You've no need - is what I'd normally say, however, I shall use this as an opportunity to ensure your docent skills are up to par.

⚡: What is it? Ah, you wish to enquire on my gift shop purchases? Very well, then. Behold! A towel with the Thorn Fairy's design on it!

Groovy

⚡: There's no telling just what lurks within the shadows of that forest, and yet she simply stands there, conversing with those beasts without a care in the world… What a thoughtless little human.

DUO

⚡: ROUSE YOURSELF, ACE!

❤️: Geez, Sebek! R.I.P. my eardrums!

I posted a summary of this card's vignette on my twitter account here.

#sebek zigvolt #ace trappola #twst #twisted wonderland #twst jp #voice lines

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starshipsofstarlord · 29 days

Text

not yet corpses. still, we rot.

summary. you were surviving after the prison fell, whilst you felt lost deep inside of yourself. without daryl, and the others that you had lost and yet to find, everything only seemed to get worse. and all was proven when the claimers interrupted your futile attempts of avoiding nightmares

warnings. death, gore, violence, angst, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, swearing, mentions of s.a, mentions of death

notes. i changed the specification of the timeline a tiny bit, i moved the timeline of the smut into a flash back as in my head y/n and daryl would be too on guard to fuck after all that trauma. i hope you enjoy my attempt at writing your request, i’d love to know your thoughts 🖤

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

The crickets sung as aspiring performers in the midst of the fire’s crackling, you were cold, tired and hungry, and all that you wanted to hear was the epiphany of silence. Each limb in your body ached sourly from the endless trekking that you had participated within, the chance to close your eyes and rest sounded spectacular.

But you refrained from succumbing to a fuelling slumber, for you would only be haunted by the reality of the situation that you had no home, and members of your found family were lost to the land that crawled with ravenous walkers… or dead.

The warmth provided from the flames was greatly appreciated by your bumpy flesh, and you stared distantly into the licking of sunset coloured mirage of the makeshift campfire. It dried the whites of your eyes to an irritating texture, however it was better than facing the truth behind the pitiful glances that the three survivors that you had structured the prison alongside donated in your direction.

You weren’t looking for sorrowful attention, you just wanted to find as many of your group as you could, selfishly Daryl more than others. The plain silver band on your finger glinted from the source of radiating and manmade light, flickering your memory back to you and Daryl tying the knot in a place that you had hoped would remain secure.

If it wasn’t for the Governor and his manipulated army, then it would have. You were glad they had their fates, or at least you assumed they all had considering the destruction that had been waged in the graveyard like grounds. There were countless lives that you had ensured were ended as you did your best to ensure that they would regret their life ruining choices.

The clouds grew agitatedly darker within the midnight sky above you, and to the dismay of your body’s survivalist needs, your shoulders shrunk from the bitter air as Rick extinguished the source of warmth. As you idly sat by, remaining in your shroud of speechless presence, Rick escorted Carl to the immobile vehicle, allowing him to sleep on the backseats for extra protection from the horrors that could possibly creep up on you in the night.

Michonne moved closer to you, placing her hand which rarely not held her executing samurai on your jacket clothed bicep, the moment was tender considering that she was doing her utmost to comfort you. “He’s out there,” she spoke with confidence, believing each word that left her mouth. “He’s a survivor, and he knows what he’s doing out there.”

“We were all survivors.” It was a statement, one that caused you great misery to say. “But in the end nobody survives, we’re all going to die one day, and some of the people out there are worse than the walkers. There’s no saying what has happened to the others… to Daryl…” You shook your head, trailing off into a weight of what one would describe as tranquility.

For you however, it was a reminder that in your future everything would be mute. The outbreak would demolish the remaining population of every single species, tainting them with transformative virus until the new and ‘improved’, infinite flock of homo sapiens lay ruin and feast to anything that breathed. The world now belonged to the dead, they were suitably adapted to the unforgiving nature of the world.

Their past minds had been erased, the concepts of a once modern life vanquished as society was. There was nought memories of waiting in endless queues in supermarkets, or eating a buttered bucket of popcorn in a movie theatre. All that corrupted the simple minds of the corpses was necessity to devour anything that they envisioned as food - your mindsets were now of similar values in that slim respect.

Just thinking of your mouth being bitterly tainted with a murderous wash of irony blood revolted you; it was something that you would never swallow, literally. Ripping into human flesh with your very teeth was a repulsive reminder that one bite, or a death without a deadly pressure to the brain, would turn you into one of those monsters. You had to remain alert, despite your body’s almost hypnotic drowsiness to fall asleep.

At least Rick and Michonne had each other, even if they did not acknowledge the true depth of their reciprocated support. You could tell that through their reunion something had changed within their dynamic, and you missed the deep likeness of companionship that you had shared with Daryl. Often times than not, you and the southern blooded archer would be among the seemingly endless forestation that surrounded the safe homestead of the prison, tracking and hunting critters that could surpass as an edible hors d'oeuvres.

There would be bashful conversations drifting between the two of you, whether that be a suave competition of whom could catch the most lustre of nut harbouring squirrels, or- well, in simpler terms, a concoction of unholy words that would prevail when he was erratically buried inside of your cunt. You’d go at it like rabbits in prosperous heat whilst present in the woods; the prison had no privilege of privacy since the residents of Woodbury had adjoined with the residing numbers.

And that was the thing you missed the absolute most, having your man close, in any which way. That cramped bunk within your sheet concealed cell was something you’d die for currently, you adored being pressed up against Daryl’s chest, listening to his tame heart beat, as you fell tentatively asleep.

Watch was more exhausting than it appeared, with a traipse dignifying each of your steps, you rubbed your heavy eyelids, hoping to excuse the tiredness that was overwhelming your body. In your dominant hand you used your shotgun as a walking cane, forcing yourself to return to your cell that you missed dearly. It was better than falling into a shrouding slumber in the middle of the hall; that almost sounded tempting, considering you wouldn’t have to move any further through the large prison, but you had more reason than a cot to sleep on calling your name.

And you saw it as you achingly slid past the hanging drape of a sheet that allowed some privacy in the individual cell that you always returned to and housed your random array of nicknacks that you had picked up on runs into permanently closed stores. Daryl’s body was strewn across the thin mattress, his hand laid across his face covering his depth-full eyes, as his chest rose and fell in an irregular accordance - he was still conscious, unable to doze off into plentiful rest.

Your lips tugged in an endearing smile that he couldn’t see, and you couldn’t resist from creeping closer. That was all you required, to be close to him. There were only a handful of steps remaining until you got to your desired destination, and without so much of a thought, you persevered. “Hey.” The tone that radiated from you was weak, throughout the daytime, your schedule had been filled with condemning tasks which were necessary to keep the smooth run of the prison a constant. Whilst you were doing your maintenance, there had been a not so big, yet not so small, hoard of walkers appear from over the horizon.

Michonne had joined you with handling their swift executions, but your shoulders ached from the striking violence, and the dragging of water caskets; the council, of which you were a part of, had decided to move them out of the sun so their contents would be of a hydrating temperature.

“Ya okay sunshine?” Daryl rolled around so that he was on his side, and sat up on the edge of the bed with a crouching back so that he could view your approach of him. You came to stand between his legs, enjoying the sensation of his hands running around your hips, their warmth filling you with comfort. To lull into the atmosphere which was turning sensual, your fingers coiled in his hair, running through the locks that had grown over the months.

His nose ran softly up your stomach, as he buried his face into your form, having reciprocated your yearning for his company. With a smooth drag from his strong arms, you fell delightedly into his lap, your faces meeting in a staring match as he brushed the side of your face with his hand. “Love ya, so fuckin’ much, my stunnin’ girl.” He mumbled, leading your lips to his in a slow and meaningful collision. The moment was tender, doused in every word that you were too exhausted to say aloud. You were communicating via your actions, discarding the apparel that concealed your bottom halves, giving you the opportunity to slide your cunt down on his erect cock.

You felt blissfully full, the qualms that had bent you to their will through the day slipping instantaneously away. The cupping of your palms positioned themselves on his exposed shoulders, and you ground your hips together, feeling his tip prod deep within you. Daryl shuffled back, kicking his legs out as he wrapped his arms around your frame, treating you so delicately as he fucked you from below. His lips cascaded along every inch of skin that your tank left bare, expressing his adoration for you with his lips and the little circles he drew along your hips. He could never get enough of being close to you, since the first time the two of you had shared together, he had gained more confidence with his role in the sexual situations you shared.

The breaths that huffed past your lips in attempts of being quiet were addictive to his ears, he was desperate to get an audible sound to fester out of you, but the pleasured expression that was imposed on your face was enough; he knew that he was making you feel amazing, and in these lovemaking events, that was all that mattered to him. He groaned at the thought of being somewhere private, where you could make a sound without disturbing anybody, or risking walkers stumbling upon you.

You were close, Daryl could feel it, your walls clenched uncontrollably around his length, which drove him wild, and cautiously he bucked his hips upwards a little faster, careful not to cause the bed to squeak to badly as there were people sleeping in both cells either side your own. He sat further up, his back straighter so that he could brush his teeth gently along your jaw, driving you wild as your hands drove beneath the sleeveless sides of his shirt, caressing his scarred flesh with tentativeness.

You were snapped out of your daydream in the omnipotent dark as you felt the scuffing of crinkling leaves, and before you could adjust into defensive action, there was a cold metal muzzle pressed into your muzzle, by a man with silver locks and a denim vest suited to his greedy physique. Without a doubt, these were the same men that had traipsed upon the house that you and Rick had been inhabiting whilst Michonne and Carl were strolling the streets.

They were claimers to objects they valued as things that their greed thirsted for, and you shuddered a breath as the man threatening your life steadied his grotesque arm upon your shoulder all the whilst he opened his mouth to converse impolitely. “Maybe we’ll keep this one alive, she’s a looker.” It felt as though he was bragging about the possibility to his hungry followers that you could be his property.

He recognised Rick that was for sure. You’d been a witness to the man that had taken it upon himself to cozy his fat ass on the toilet, and the way in which his throat was denied oxygen to passage through it. You and Rick had been huddled under the bed that dipped from their pocket heavy weights as you had ran to awaken him as you were certain you’d heard something before they bustled into the once home to a stranger that was no doubt long dead. And in your escape, you had put a deadly pressure on the invader’s throat… until he permanently passed out.

To exasperate your distaste for his misogynistic idea, you spat upon the ground, your nostrils flaring as you dared to spin your head back so that his gun was resting upon your forehead. If he was going to shoot, he might as well make it quick, considering you didn’t intend to be alive if they had the intentions of taking sick advantage of your body.

As you prepared to retort an insult that foully would cause further trouble for you and your friends, they momentarily became distracted but still alert as a figure slunk onto the clearing. You had to allow your vision to focus, and when it did, you were shocked in the best possible way. It was Daryl, and he was certainly alive. He seemed to be acquainted with this pack of scavengers, and you realised that the ordeal in which he had went through was the only way in which he could have survived.

He didn’t liken association with low lives that threatened those he cared about, however he hadn’t seen their full nature until now. Daryl felt at a crossroads as he took complete acknowledgment of the weapon that was frozen against your skull; he couldn’t be rash, they were a lousy, impulsive group, and he was lit with elation in every cell of his body to see that you were still breathing.

“Jus’ hold up.” His gentle footsteps were slowly approaching in a careful regard as his voice strained with caution. He couldn’t help but eye Joe up - he had a gun to your damn head! If he pulled that trigger… he wouldn’t allow that bullet to be released. You were far too great a risk to have on the line, he had to settle this, like a man. Rick was squinting up at him, determining the reason for the unsurprising reaction the claimers had given his presence.

“One of these two is the one that killed Lou so we got nothing to talk about.” The rugged, richly certain statement fled from one of the thieving men, as he had his long barrel raised, Rick being the focus on the end of his gun that had most likely been stolen in the crossfires of their apocalyptic journey. Anything was loot to them, even with their rules, they were scoundrels no doubt before the end of the world had began, and they would leave it no different. But Daryl wasn’t willingly going to allow them to either kill or claim you, your worth was insanely precious, and he wouldn’t allow all you had been through to be for nothing.

“The thing about nowadays is we got nothin’ but time.” Joe said from behind you, realising that finally, Daryl had proven himself despite the cautionary warnings and delivered punishments that the archer had bore witness to, but he was just to be a loss to them if he didn’t get behind the way, then he would just be an obstacle in the way. “Say your piece Daryl.” This was his final chance, but he had been given an opportunity. Joe liked to think of himself as an understanding man, there was always a reason as to why a swine didn’t want to roll in the mud; his gaze noticed that your eyes didn’t deter away from the redneck that was new to his ranks. There was an expression that he didn’t recognise upon upon your face, but he was willing to use it for his own purposes if it came to such a crossroads.

“These people…” Daryl cast his eyes momentarily at you again, as though he was pleading for you to remain still and allow him to be the peacemaker. And you subtly nodded, brows drawing together as you concentrated on the group members who had taken up space in your surroundings. “You gon let em go. These are good people.” He was attempting to find some humanity in this man who was leaning like a shadow over you, if there was any. It was the same careful traipse of dialogue that he would use with Merle when he was being inconsiderate before the outbreak, it hardly worked, his brother would laugh and call him a pussy, but Daryl had learned how to use his heart.

It was there to love, and whilst it still felt new, to be loved. These were his people, you were his person, and it was his responsibility to save you. He had tried to protect Beth, and whilst she had gotten out of that mortuary house with her life in tact despite the wave of walkers that had invaded through the front door, she still had to be alive. And so did the others, wherever in the country they were, no one was weak, each of you had your own strengths and that would get you somewhere. It had to.

“Now I-I-I think Lou would disagree with yer on that.” The grey haired man stuttered, and you weren’t sure whether it was due to the lack of respect he felt from Daryl whom he had taken in as one of his own - a stray, or if he felt inferior. You supposed it was the latter, there was a continual pattern with each man that fought for power that you had noticed after your encounters. They feared any soul opposing them, it made them appear frail and insecure, just like the Governor had been with the instances involving Andrea and Michonne. “I’ll of course have to speak for him an’ all because your friends here strangled him in a bathroom.”

Guilt overflowed like a faucet in your throat; you didn’t regret killing ‘Lou’. Rick had been your supporting witness, but there were no longer court trials condemned to determine the punishments for living, instead those that thought they were in control of the passers-by that they encountered - and to them, what fit every crime was death. There was now nought reason for you to brood in your squalor, you could see Daryl’s face, and if that was the last image that you had earned before the end of your life, you were glad. Though you were stubborn to go out fighting, otherwise your entire life after the prison; the tears, the passiveness, and the little amount of blood that had spilt from you would all have been for nothing.

“You want blood, I get it.” Daryl read them, Joe had already killed one of his own men, he wouldn’t hesitate when it came to a found family of strangers. They weren’t good people, they were miscreants that had given him the choice to either join them on their sin induced travelling, or die. And he had been broken, lost and alone, there had been no other choice if he had the intent of surviving in order to drains you. With disregard, he threw his arms in a stance, disarming himself as his crossbow flew out of his hands, falling on the ground, showcasing that he had an offer that Joe would not justify with a refusal “Take it from me man. Come on.”

Your heart swelled, Daryl was putting his own life on the line so that he could save you and your friends. A glaze of emotion was cast over your eyes, as you tried to slow your heartbeat, if you panicked, none of you would get out of this. “This man and woman killed our friend. You say their good people.” It was ironic, if you weren’t so shocked you would have stifled a laugh. These people weren’t friends, there weren’t any tears for their dear Lou, no, they craved any excuse to take and take and take. The revenge they were stubborn with pursuing was only a reason to get their hands bloody, and feel powerful as they got further away from the concept of being a human. “Now that right there i-i-is a lie. It’s a lie!”

Daryl couldn’t bargain through this, they were set in stone when it came to their perception of inflicting both emotional and physical pain. With disappointed defeat, his arms flopped haplessly at his sides, as he continued to stand straight. He had to get through to them! They could budge just a little, he just had to encourage them, make them believe that letting you live was the wrong thing to do. “C’mo-” Before he could continue his pleads to be the centre of violent attention, one of the lowlife claimers wretched their foot into his stomach, causing him to wheeze uncontrollably from the harsh impact.

At the sight alone of him getting hurt, it was on instinct that you prepared to swerve into action. You had to stop this, you had to save him. Your hands scratched against the golden leaves that were all over the ground as you tried to scramble up on your feet, attempting to prevent further bruising or blood withdrawal from Daryl’s body, however a sharp pain flew through your scalp. Joe had grabbed you, maintaining you as his hostage as his fingers weaved aggressively through your hair, forcing you to jut your chin out from the painful discomfort.

“Teach him fellas.” His tone was strong as he beckoned his orders, his deep, soulless eyes twitching from the agitation that had pent up within him. “Teach him all the way.” He ensured that they were aware of what he wanted, and the rest of the claimers were gratified to comply with his protocol of brutality, shoving Daryl up against the frozen vehicle, the clash of his body against it being audible from where you knelt. They threw punch after hateful punch, and Daryl struggled to maintain his stance against them; it was two against one.

“C’mere boy.” The words were growled out through the open car door, as Carl was dragged away from the hiding space. He couldn’t escape, and the claimers were getting the best of your group, and they were in afraid to draw blood. A knife was held firmly against the boy’s throat, and your eyes bulged from the petrifying suspense. Tears slipped from Carl’s blue eyes that had witnessed far too much for his age, and Rick began to panic. Lori had lost her life when she was birthing Judith, who now was also somewhere in the unknown, probably dead. He wouldn’t fail as a father a second time and allow his remaining child to die. “You leave him be!” Rick bellowed, which only made the sick men chuckle at his despair as they held him down from writhing towards an escape to rescue his son.

“Listen it was me! It was just me!” The words shrieked from your lips, as you felt a pool of despair puddle in your eyes. This was all because of you, perhaps if you hadn’t panicked within the moment of entrapment, and you hadn’t forlorn Lou to whichever afterlife lay after the present, then the claimers would have spared you, envisioning you as stragglers that had done no harm. There was a debt to be paid; a score that Joe felt he had to settle, and it was all because of your pathological actions. If anyone had to own up and pay the cost of taking the life of their adjoined associate, it should be you.

They wanted a permanent justice of a life, and you were happy enough to allow them to take it, as long as you were deemed the victim. That said however, if there was a route away from a pledged sentence, you would take it so that your entire family, including you would be spared. You just had to wait for the opportunity to present itself, and then there would be no hesitation on your part. “See now that’s right.” Joe’s words saturated your spine with a discerning flavour of fright, as he pushed the threatening metal harsher against the shell of your brain.

Rick’s eyes drifted in a frantic debauch between his sobbing son, who was thrashing under the weight of the gruesome man who conveyed him as nothing more than an activity; he’d enjoy watching him die; and you, whom was rigid from head to toe. His mind tried its damndest to calculate a way to save you both, you’d become like a sister to him despite the arrogance that you’d greeted him with back at the Atlanta camp, blaming him dreadfully for Merle’s captivity on that rooftop, rather than Merle and his big, loud and agonising mouth that tended to land him in a swarm of trouble. You had always been on Daryl’s side, but now you shared a connection after the fleeting experiences that had doubtlessly backed you against a wall.

“That’s not some damn lie. Look we can settle this, we’re reasonable men.” Joe reasoned with self interest and vengeance, his stone irises scouring languidly down your tense body from above, a little impressed that a woman had managed to withdraw the life of one of his boisterous comrades. His breath heaved down on you, making your skin crawl with distaste. And so he continued, making you all the more seasoned with spite. “First we’re gonna beat Daryl to death. Then your friend next to you. Then the other girl. Then the boy. And then we shoot you and then we’ll be square.” His maniacal laugh retorted in an echo, as his words truly sunk in. There had been enough devastation, and you viewed each of those you cared for with compassion.

Carl was writhing across the golden leaves that appeared gray beneath the silver moon, leaking from his tear ducts with agonising fear. Rick was stern with his demanding pleas that did nothing but resort humour into the audience that had you at gun point. Michonne was wide eyes and prepared for any intrusion that could occur, silently realising that you would be the culprit to begin a ravenous fight. And Daryl, god Daryl was swinging his arm back as much as he was able, losing against the two men that had the delight of using him as a punching bag. You couldn’t wait any longer, no one was on their way to save you, there was no other choice but try again, planning on a physical tactic this time.

“Let them go.” You hissed dangerously thro the your teeth, flickering your eyes around one last time, managing to make eye contact with Michonne, the gun against her braided head remind you that it was now or never. Joe felt hilarity from your demand, and you repeated it in an increased volume, distracting him with the sound of your voice before you threw your head back, whacking the man behind you with a mind numbing force. The bang of a bullet stirred a hazy cast across your field of vision, spiring a high pitched scream of white noise in your ears, but it was worth it. Joe had stumbled aback, the impact having arose a newfound course of adrenaline to fluster through your pumping veins.

With the rush that jolted you into a spiralling spree of sudden action, you span around, standing upon your two feet as you threw a heavy punch to your enemy’s tired face, a concerned look transpiring upon Rick’s face, as Daryl failed with unfortunate consequences to prevail in his hand to hand combat hustle. In return, you had earned a blow to the face, the force of Joe’s fist causing you to be upon the floor once again. “Oh it’s gonna be so much worse now.” To support his promise, his foot met with your ribs, causing a holler and a pained gasp to escape you; there would no doubt be a bruise left if you survived this assault.

Another slap brandished your face with a stinging hue, as you stumbled up, staggering slightly as you did your best to focus on winning this physical battle. “Come on, get up! Come on, let’s see whatcha got.” He was teasing you, drowning you with anger from the mockery he betrothed you with, as a red line ran pleasantly from his nose. “C’mere!” He growled, prompting you for more, and to see his blood spill was a divine gift, even as he breathed disgustedly against you as he grabbed you by the waist, holding you in front of his body. “What the hell you gonna do now slut?”

There was no possibility of escaping his grip with your form alone, he was a sturdy man, albeit an evil one, but he had you in his monstrous clutch. Your brain racked with a free flow of a matching immoral high ground, and thus you thought of the walkers, and how they took life. Your noggin tossed back in a flurry of monstrosity, your teeth gnashing until they pried formlessly upon his throat, the flesh running between each porcelain tooth as you found purchase in the skin, tugging with animosity, until the torn fragment of his body was pulled away, blood spattering in a revolted spray from your mouth.

The claimer gradually fell, pausing his team from their desolate nature of commanding death as their leader met his end, laying in a lifeless pile on the ground. Michonne and Rick pursued their captor’s, sweeping their lives away in a more sophisticated fashion than you had, and Daryl gained the upper hand from your repulsive distraction. As Rick fled from where he had knelt, he sprinted to pursue Carl’s release, as you remained still, shocked with your own tactile second nature. Your face was half covered in blood, like you were a young child whom had gotten into their mother’s makeup bag, but that wasn’t the reality. You shook, astounded with trauma.

Arms coiled around you, as Daryl held your crimson chin in his hand, looking lovingly at you despite the circumstances that had lead to your freedom. “Sunshine.” The term was distinctly ironic, but the cigarette husk that adorned his throat remained full of love. Since the outbreak you had all had to complete extensive steps to remain breathing, and your breath stuttered as you wanted nothing more than to bury your face in your archer’s chest, but he held your head up, as he dragged the red rag from his pocket, swiping across the stain that made the rag even redder. As you looked around yourself, you saw past the massacre and felt relief.

This was home; these people, especially the one right in front of you. His hand stroked roughly against your cheek as a long, heartfelt peck was planted upon your forehead. He had found you, in this sick world that had all of you lost. You smiled at him, resting your forehead against his as you shared a harmonious breath. “I’m just happy your alive Dixie.” You tried to uplift the mood, as did Rick and Michonne, as they fussed with care over Carl. Daryl couldn’t care less for the state that you were displayed in, he pulled you closer, unable to resist your lips. You shared a kiss, it was passionate and filled with circumstantial desperation, your hands pulled at his neck as you tried to get his face closer.

You could only move on from this happening, there was no dwelling. There was no guilt bore in your chest, those that tried ripping you apart deserved a worse fate, and you had only been fair since considering the consequences they had imposed on forcing you to experience. The Governor was the same, and so would the next foolish soul that failed the lengths that you would all go through to protect each other. You felt sick from the vehemence that had concurred from your body, but you had found more pieces of your familial puzzle, and you had every intention of finding the rest.

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fic

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sixofcrowdaydreams · 2 months

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Six of Crows Russian Edition

Today I found this gorgeous gem at the bookstore!

So a few years ago I moved overseas to live in a Russian speaking country. I am not in Russia, for the record. The national language here is not Russian, but it is commonly spoken in my city.

Today at the bookstore I looked for a copy of Crooked Kingdom for the cast of Shadow and Bone to sign this May when I go to A Storm of Shadows and Crows convention in Paris. I don't own a copy of SOC or KC in English and there's no chance of finding one where I live. The next best option was getting a book in the local language and calling it a souvenir of my time abroad. To my delight I found this lovely Russian edition of Six of Crows!

More stunning artwork below.

There were multiple versions of the books to choose from. The original art and the Netflix artwork were available too. The most impressive part was finding copies of the original covers WITHOUT the Netflix sticker. (Haha, suck it Netflix.) To the right, not pictured were King of Scars and Rule of Wolves.

I've never seen this cover variation before. It was an exciting find!

The Russian version I bought is illustrated by (I assume Russian?) artist Eva Eller.

I didn't see a copy of Crooked Kingdom with illustrations by the same artist at this bookstore, but it must exist. Mine was the last copy of SOC with the Russian artwork. Maybe it was sold out?

Google Translate titles the book Six of Ravens, lol. But that's just a translation error because a little google-foo showed that ворона (pronounced vorona) means crow. Interestingly, while typing the title, I learned that вор (pronounced vor) means thief. Interesting how similar the words crow and thief are in Russian. Checks out.

Above is the art printed on the side of the pages. Love how it still includes the side of the pages colored, just like the original books.

The hardcover underneath the jacket is a crow. It's not the same as pictured on the original CK cover, but it is similar. Love the messy, broken, bent feathers, yet the crow is still able to fly. Metaphor for our six characters? Absolutely!

The book was wrapped in cellophane so I didn't realize there was even more art inside! Here is the inner cover. IT'S BEAUTIFUL! The back is the same. It captures the foggy haze of Ketterdam so well.

The flaps of the book jacket are images from the inner cover. But there's a cracked texture over them that gives it a gorgeous grittiness.

The candle is the left side of the inner book jacket. Sorry the image isn't flat, I didn't want to damage the jacket by straightening it out.

The right side of the book jacket shows all the Crows!

Let's appreciate how Matthias looks snow pale and serious. Inej is taller than Nina -- she must be standing on a step stool. No clue why both of their eyes are closed, especially when Nina is the one pointing to the paper. They are lovely. Kaz has on his scheming face. Jesper is as handsome as every version of him should be. And Wylan looks bored AF because A.) he's already memorized the map he drew or B.) he can't read whatever document Kaz has in front of them. Wait, no, Wylan is making heart eyes at Jesper. All of the above can be true.

Inside is a small illustration at the beginning of each chapter, which changes with each section.

You can also see the Crow's names written in Cyrillic. Inej, Kaz, Nina, and Matthias translate easily. Jesper uses the д (letter D) and ж (pronounced like zhe) letter combination that makes his name sound like Zhesper since there is no J in Cyrillic. It's worth pointing out (again) that Wylan's name does not translate perfectly. There is no W in the Cyrillic alphabet. (As someone who also has a W in their name, I sympathize with Wylan here.) I'm no expert in Russian, but I'm pretty sure -- with the help of google translate -- that Wylan is pronounced as Oo-ai-len. Poor boy can't catch a break.

Each of the five section of the book use different chapter art. They all do an excellent job capturing the atmosphere.

The paper is so thin that you can easily see the printing on the opposite side. Not ideal for an edition that's otherwise this lovely. Oh well.

Given that Ravka is fantasy Russia, it's not a surprise to find the Grisha Verse books in Russian.

I am so excited to bring this book to Paris for the cast to sign!

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone

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slf-nights · 1 year

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Angel Voices - Vash x Reader

4.1k words / minors DNI / takes place in trigun '98 canon

CW: reader has breasts, wears a bra, and has a vagina/vulva/clit, but no specific use of pronouns in fic (though one mention of "goddess"), no mention of skin color, hair color or texture. Both reader and Vash are written with the mindset of bisexual switches.

Use of nicknames like baby and good boy, mentions and descriptions of Vash's scars, oral (m on f + f on m), 69, f squirting on m's face, discussion of contraceptive method, piv sex (sitting with f on top, cowgirl, and missionary), monsterfucking (since Vash is a sentient plant; discussion of plant sex differences and weird plant cum), overstimulation, cum eating (only a little), brief aftercare (as there might be a fic part 2)

AN: Thank you to everyone for waiting on this! I wrote this with so much love for the original source material and I hope it captures the slightly goofy spirit of the Trigun 98 dub, both for Vash and reader 💖

Morning again…

Slowly waking, you scrunch up your face, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. From behind, you can hear soft, even breaths and feel a warm hand around your waist.

We must have fallen asleep after the mission…

Closing your eyes, you take in the sensation of Vash’s body around you: his left arm slung around your waist, fingers tucked slightly under your shirt and legs tangled between yours.

You had only meant to talk for bit and process the day’s adventure, but even one beer and leftover donuts from the morning was enough to relax Vash and make him realize just how much energy he had used up.

He was staying at a hotel down the road, so you offered to let him rest a minute before heading back. He had obliged, slipping his jacket off and removing his metal prosthesis, showing you just how much he trusted you.

When you had sat down next to him, petting his hair as he relaxed, you must have fallen asleep too, lulled by the repetitive motion and gentle hums from Vash. You were supposed to wake him up, but instead you were laying next to him, the closest you’d ever been to the man you had a huge crush on.

He really should have been able to figure it by now…

For all his “reputation” as a womanizer, besides some harmless flirting, you had never witnessed Vash make a move on anyone. He seemed to prefer the company of drinking buddies or a bag of fresh donuts more than a night with a woman.

You knew why, though.

Beneath the handsome and charming outer surface, Vash the Stampede kept a secret perfectly contained. You’d never guess it by a glance, but he was pushing 150 years old, and hidden under layers of crimson leather and cloth were relics of his past—scars, surgeries, repairs, and metal prosthetics.

With a flashy enough jacket, no one usually asked questions about what was underneath.

You hadn’t seen them for yourself more than a quick glance when Vash stretched and his shirt rode up, but you had heard about the extent of his injuries from Meryl and Milly.

The insurance girls had become your friends quickly, often hanging out together and commiserating over how much trouble you all got into around Vash and Wolfwood.

You didn’t mind the adventures. Sure, danger followed you at every step, but you always seemed to come out alright—Vash and Nick always found a way to turn things around.

Which is how you ended up here, snuggled in the arms of the infamous gunslinger, the humanoid typhoon, and the man currently pressed up against your back, half-hard and sleepy, holding onto you like a touch-starved lover.

You knew if Vash woke up right now he would apologize furiously and move away from you instantly, but you didn’t want him to leave.

You wanted to go further—spend the morning in bed and explore…

You don't know how to cross that emotional barrier yet, but have time to think, cheeks burning as Vash’s fingers ghost over your stomach, almost dipping below your underwear waistband. Sucking in a breath, sensitive, you move your hips slowly, closing your eyes and waiting for Vash to wake up.

Only he doesn't.

He lets out a few breathy moans in his sleep, holding onto you tighter and nuzzling into your shoulder. You lay there, blushing, feeling Vash’s cock swelling into your back and starting to pant softly. You're already so wet without being touched, but don't feel comfortable going any further without consent.

Fuck, this was going to be awkward.

“Vash?”

He only stirs slightly, still lost in his sleepy haze.

“Vash, wake up.”

“Hmmmm??”

You needed only wait a moment before Vash’s hand promptly flies away with an embarrassed “WHAAAAYAGHHHH!!!” and the string of apologies comes as expected.

Instead of accepting them, however, you shove Vash back down onto the pillows and climb onto his hips, raising a finger to talk to him.

“Stop that!!!”

He immediately shuts up, cheeks still flushed, and stares up at you, dumbfounded.

“I like you, Vash.” You go right to the point, bluntly, so he has no excuses. “I like you romantically… sexually… and I don’t want your apologies!!!! I want you to stay.”

Vash’s mouth pops open, looking you over to see if you're really telling the truth, then asks sheepishly, “Why didn’t you say anything before???”

Frowning, you remain in your position, looking down at the gunman. “Do you know how hard it is to get a moment with you alone??? I appreciate the gentleman act and all, but it makes it hard to get to know each other.”

Turning his gaze away, Vash mumbles out, “Maybe you don’t want to know the real me.”

Reaching down to take his face in your hands, you gently turn his head back toward you. “Look, this doesn’t have to be anything permanent. But I don’t want to waste the time I have with you. You’re constantly getting into trouble and I never know if I’m even going to see you tomorrow.”

His brows furrow, but gaze softens towards you. “The life of an outlaw isn’t a safe one. Danger and destruction follows me everywhere I go. And I don’t want you to be collateral.”

Reaching for his hand, you lace your fingers between his, squeezing tight. “I don’t know what today holds, but you’re here with me now.”

Vash looks like he’s tearing up, having resigned himself to a life of loneliness long ago. “Do you really want me?”

You break into a grin, all the anxiety you had felt lifting away. “I do. All of you.”

“I…” He starts, then hesitates, swallowing nervously. “I’m not all that pretty. My face maybe, but. I’ve been around a long time, you understand? And fought so many battles…”

You nod, dragging your hand out of his grip and settling both of palms on his stomach. “I understand. Meryl and Milly told me a little about your past… But I don’t care about that. I care about you. However you are.”

“Ah, shucks.” He laughs, carefully putting his hand on your waist. “You’re gonna make me blush~”

“I believe I’ve already done that this morning, Mr. Stampede~”

He grins, his playfulness finally returning. “Please, not my full name!! It’s just Vash to you.”

“Vash.” You say his name out loud once more, uttering it with reverence and adoration.

“My Vash.”

His gaze meets yours, tracking down to your lips, then back up. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod, licking your lips unconsciously, then lean forward, setting your fingertips under Vash’s jaw and tilting your head. He meets your lips with his own, gripping your hip tightly as he whimpers into your mouth.

It had been far too long since he had been this close with anyone and your touch was electrifying.

Pulling back for a moment, though still desperate, Vash gets out between soft pecks, “Wait, wait. Lemme get my arm. Go to the bathroom. Wanna do this right.”

You sigh, sitting up. “Alright, hang on.”

Climbing off of him, you stand up and ask him to wait, then go to pick up his arm, making a little “oof!” sound as you return, struggling slightly with the metal’s weight.

Presenting the device to him, you watch as he aligns the locking mechanism, wrinkling up his nose as his arm reattaches, and letting out a sigh of relief out when he can finally move his arm again.

“I don’t usually take it off since it hurts to reattach, but my shoulder was aching so bad last night, I needed a break.”

You tilt your head, eyes traveling to his shoulders. “Do you need me to look at your shoulder? Did you get hurt?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll check it in the bathroom. Be right back.”

As soon as the door closes, you run to your drawers to look for lingerie, digging until you find a red bra, the same shade as his jacket, and a clean pair of bottoms. Shoving them into a cloth bag, you wait impatiently to swap places so you can surprise him.

Soon, Vash peeks out, hiding slightly with his clothes slung over his arm. He’s shirtless now with just boxers on, his scars fully on display. You walk over to him, kissing his upper arm and glancing up. “I’ll be right back. There’s water and snacks if you’re hungry.”

“Mhm.” Vash smiles, ruffling your hair affectionately. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Vash has half a pudding eaten when you finally return, dropping his spoon and his jaw when he sees you step out of the bathroom.

“You all good?” Clasping your hands in front of your stomach, you sway slightly, watching as Vash sets the pudding aside and rushes toward you, getting on his knees.

“You're the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in the whole galaxy…”

“That’s not possible, there are objectively prettier things than me. Like… the Horsehead Nebula.”

Vash laughs, still on the ground. “Nerd.”

Reaching out a hand to pat his hair, you drag your fingertips over his scalp, grinning down at him. “Dweeb.”

Grabbing the backs of both your thighs, Vash pulls closer as you shiver at the cold metal on your skin, a slight damp patch already forming on your panties. Mouthing over the cotton fabric, Vash inhales deeply, drunk on the smell of you. You look down, embarrassed, pushing his head away. “Vash…”

“Sorry, was that too much?”

“You don’t waste any time, huh? Is it possible you’re really a ‘ladykiller’ like the legends say?~”

“Mmmh.” Vash raises his eyebrows, squeezing your thighs and making you squirm. “No more talking.”

Tucking his fingers into your waistband, he yanks the material down and lets you step out, tossing the garment to an unknown corner of the room. The air in the room is sticky with the desert heat, but Vash’s hands on you are making you sweat even more, starting to pant hard as he ghosts his breath over your now-bare pussy.

He’s maddening, teasing you without giving you what you want, making you only imagine what his tongue feels like.

Instead of kissing your clit, he moves to your thighs, kissing and sucking faint hickeys into your skin. He can’t contain his own pleasure, moaning softly as he leaves gentle bites, making you jump and suck in a sharp breath as he moves closer and closer to your dripping cunt.

Grabbing his hair, you desperately pull him up onto you and he makes a surprised “mmpf!” as his nose bumps your clit. Your cheeks flush even deeper, finally feeling Vash’s tongue dart out and collect your slick, sucking messily as he traces his tongue over your folds.

When he’s teased you enough, he pauses a moment, looking up at you with sparkling eyes, pussy-drunk, then dives back down, finally wrapping his soft lips around your clit.

“Nnnnh!!!”

Bracing yourself against the hotel wall, you bring a hand to your mouth to stifle your moans, remembering there are other guests just across the wall. Hissing out a, “Vash!” you point to the bed, knees buckling slightly as he rubs his thumb over your clit and gives you a false-innocent questioning look.

“Need something?~”

“Can we—“ Interrupting yourself with another high-pitched moan, you try again, voice wavering. “Bed. Please?”

“Well since you said please and all~”

Wiping off his mouth and grinning, Vash stands, sauntering over to the bed and pulling back the covers, waiting for you to lay down first.

When you finally do, he stares down at you quietly, watching as you cross your legs, pull your arms over your chest, and look away, suddenly shy at the intensity of his gaze roaming over you.

“No, please, don’t hide.” Vash sits down on the edge of the bed next to you, tracing his fingers over the bottom edge of your bra. “You look so beautiful right now…”

Finally meeting his eyes again, your heart leaps, seeing his softer side come out—his smile is warm and sincere, making you smile in return, sharing his happiness.

As you study Vash a moment longer, you notice little details: his eyes are wide and full of desire, hair disheveled from your touch, and lips still puffy from eating you out. You can feel warmth blossoming in your chest and cheeks, silently drawing your heart closer to him.

Leaning up quickly, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. He moans when your tongue finds his, exploring your mouth softly as he climbs onto the bed. One leg settles between both of yours and his hands reach for your face, neck, breasts—anything he can hold onto and get closer to you.

When you finally break for air, Vash is giggling with the biggest, goofiest grin on his face. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?? This is great!!”

Laughing too, you pull the back of your hand over your eyes and grin, cheeks flushed and breath coming out in soft pants.

You had noticed lately that Vash had two aspects to his personality: the hardened, tough, expert outlaw gunslinger side, and the very playful, hopeful, trusting and almost child-like side. In this moment, you loved being on the receiving end of the latter.

Moving your hand enough to peek an eye open, you see Vash grinning down at you again, tilting his head curiously and waiting for you to catch your breath. “You all good??”

You nod and sit up, pulling him into a hug. “Just happy you’re here with me is all.”

Feeling the warmth of his skin against yours and his hands resting gently on your back, you calm down instantly, taking a moment to rest. This was the first time you had been close to his scars and you reach out, gently tracing over some of them, watching for a response in case you were overstepping boundaries.

He lets you keep going, however, watching carefully as your fingers trace his skin’s memories of the past—the metal grating, the permanent clamps, the burned patches, old bullet wounds, and healed-over gashes.

Pressing your lips to the biggest scar on his chest, you slowly kiss your way up to his neck while your left hand slips down his stomach to his cock, rubbing through his underwear as you continue your gentle barrage of kisses and nips.

Whimpering, Vash tosses his head back, arching into your touch. “Feels… so good!” He whines, tilting his neck so you have better access. With a grin, you lick a stripe up his pulse point, making him shiver and sending even more blood rushing to his cock.

“Don’t stop. Pleeeease.” Vash grinds against your hand, desperation bleeding into his voice. You squeeze his cock gently, making him let out a strangled “aaaah!” and lean his forehead onto your shoulder. “Baby, please… You’re killin’ me.”

Laughing softly, you free him from his boxers, tapping your fingers on the precum leaking from the tip and stringing it out, then slicking your palm over the head. His reaction is instant—whole body shaking and cheeks flushing hot as he unsuccessfully tries to keep his composure, letting out a loud “fuck!”

Using the collected slick as lube, you grip tightly around his cock, jerking the shaft slowly and avoiding grazing the head until he calms down.

“Good boyyyyy. Look at you being so good for me, Vash~”

He whines again, thrusting up into your hand and biting his lip, completely at your mercy. The greatest outlaw in history and he was absolute putty in your hands.

“W-what—” Vash chokes out while you continue stroking. “What about you??” Gripping the sheets, Vash closes his eyes and moans loudly when you lean down to flick over the head with your tongue.

“What about me?~” You look up at him, still holding onto his cock with your mouth open, drops of pearly pre on your tongue.

He huffs out a sigh, trying to compose himself. “You make it really hard to think, you know that?”

Nodding, you close your mouth and swallow, noting a slightly different flavor—more earthy, green notes than any you’d tasted before. Weird?

“I mean…” Vash reaches out and pulls you up into a kiss, then holds onto your shoulder. “What if we worked at the same time??”

oH…

“Are you sure?”

He grins again, nodding fast. Crawling up to the pillows, Vash holds out his hands and motions for you to scoot back towards him. You oblige, glad your face is hidden as he grabs your hips and pulls you to his mouth, immediately licking around the edges of your still-wet folds.

Letting out a pitiful whine, your focus falters momentarily, lost in the haze of pleasure Vash’s tongue is bringing you. You reach out to find his cock, having to stretch a bit to reach (since he’s so tall), but returning quickly to your pattern of stroking the shaft and teasing the head.

All you can do is focus on your rhythm as Vash continues to distract you with his flicks and sucks as he moans into your pussy. You can feel yourself getting wetter as both of you work, slick beginning to drip down your thighs (and you imagine, Vash’s face).

Crying out in pleasure, you pull away from Vash’s cock, clenching your legs as you feel yourself come close. “No, Vash’s it’s—!!”

You didn’t want to come so fast, but your body had other ideas, letting out a small gush of fluid as Vash teases your slit and rubs your clit, making you spill over the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, feeling Vash sit up and lower your hips to his waist.

“Are you ready now??~”

You expect him to be upset or shy, but when you look back, he has another stupid grin on and looks happier than ever.

The humanoid typhoon sure was something.

“Ye-yeah, if you are…”

Vash finds a washcloth on the nightstand and dries his face while he watches you take off your bra, asking, “I don’t think we have any protection right now… Do you want me to pull out, or…??”

“I think that’s the only thing we can do? Unless you want to pause and go find some~”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I know I’m clean, I got a big checkup from the guy who made my arm just a week or two ago. Plus, we don’t really know if Plant DNA is compatible with human…”

“Hm?” He had said it so nonchalantly that you almost didn’t notice. “Plant? Like, the energy sources?”

Putting a hand to his chest, he nods. “I’m a plant. Not exactly the same variety as the ones in the power cells, but the same genetics. My caretaker Rem always said me and my brother were a ‘miracle’.”

“Can we talk about it more later?” You prompt gently, glancing down at his cock. “I’m glad I unlocked some Vash the Stampede lore, but I think we were in the middle of something??~~”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, of course.”

There’s a twinge of sadness in his gaze now and you move forward, taking his face in your hands again. “I can’t wait for you to be inside me, Vash. Please. Fuck me.”

Smiling softly, Vash eases you onto his lap and holds securely around your waist with his metal arm. With his other hand, he guides his cock to your entrance, going slow and giving you time to adjust to his size as he eases inside you. When he hits the base, he leans into your shoulder, cockwarming himself a few moments as you acclimate.

“Jeez, you feel so good…” Vash murmurs into your hair, sighing happily. You wrap your legs around his waist tighter, trusting him to keep you upright. He fills you snugly, but not so much it hurts, and you clench around him once, letting out a whimper as he still refuses to move.

Pressing your hips down, you grind onto his pelvis, rocking yourself slowly as you hide into Vash’s neck and moan softly. He keeps the moment slow and intimate, rocking his hips up into you, matching your pace and energy until you’re ready for more.

It’s all so intimate—the sweat-drenched skin, panting breaths, hands grabbing into hair, feverish kisses, and complete trust. You’re intoxicated with the way Vash treats you like a goddess; a being worthy of worship and devotion. The way he kisses your breasts, grabs at your hips and waist, the way he times and angles his thrusts—his every thought is of pleasing you.

Laying back, Vash lets you stay on top, moving his hands to your hips to help you ride him. Bucking up with increasingly desperate thrusts, he lets out strings of “ah!!!” and “nnh!” with every motion, matching your chorus of whimpering cries. As you ride him, you reach down to your clit, rubbing slow circles as Vash pounds your sensitive pussy from below.

You can feel your second orgasm of the morning build quickly as your legs shake, your endurance starting to wane even as Vash continues unhindered. Holding still, you quietly scream out Vash’s name when your peak finally hits hard, squeezing your breasts through the shockwaves to heighten your sensations.

He watches you, lost in bliss, and memorizes every moment for later. He’s never seen anyone look as beautiful as you do in this moment: face contorted in pleasure and every part of you caught alight in bliss because of him.

Vash is feeling overwhelmed in the moment too; it can take time for a plant to come, even though they’re highly sensitive, as their complex sensory and nervous system has to partially restructure to prepare for genetic transfer. Vash can feel his non-metal arm go slightly numb as he gets even harder, noting that he’ll need to drink more water and be out in the sun again to regenerate later.

“Hey…” Vash smiles at you, watching as you slump onto his stomach. “I’m still not quite ready yet. Can you take more??”

Raising your head up from his stomach, you give him a weak but happy thumbs up.

He coos softly, pulling you up to lay on the pillows, “Don’t worry. I’ll do all the work. Just rest.”

Laying back, warmth still flowing out to your hands and feet from your high, you close your eyes as Vash lifts your hips to rest against his thighs. You soon feel his slick tip meet your slit and push forward, settling himself inside again. This time, however, the slow pace from the start is all but forgotten, Vash chasing his relief as he slams himself flush against you.

You can only focus on the sensory aspect of it all: the sound of his skin slapping against yours, the way neither of you can catch your breath, and how his grunts and moans get louder the faster he pounds.

Pushing toward your next orgasm, your clit is getting overstimulated by the metal of Vash’s thumb, mimicking your own motions from earlier and bringing tears to your eyes. You almost tell him to stop, but hold out, knowing he has to be close as he slows down, spluttering out, “I’m!!! I’m— nnh!!”

Sitting up onto your elbows, you watch as Vash pulls out of you, his tip bright red and swollen. He’s whimpering, almost crying, as he reaches down to swipe your slick onto his fingers and palm, making a fist and punching his cock through at a relentless pace.

“I’m so close!!! Gah!!! I’m! I’m coming—!!!” Vash is panting desperately, moaning out your name as he finally releases, splashing warm cum onto your stomach and thighs.

Completely drained, Vash shuffles on his knees to you and flops down, hiding his face into the pillows.

Sitting all the way up, you glance down at Vash’s cum on you and pick up a strand, analyzing it quietly: it’s slightly greenish in tint, a bit shimmery, and has a consistency more akin to translucent aloe vera than human cum. Popping your finger into your mouth, the same strange taste is still there—like lemongrass or cucumber mixed with a warm buttery taste.

Vash was full of surprises…

Looking over at your bed companion, you smile, seeing him already half asleep.

“Heyyyy, you did so good, baby. Rest, I’ll be right back…”

Petting his hair, just like the night before, you press a kiss to his forehead and go to clean up, leaving a sleepy Stampede to recharge until your return.

Do not repost or recc this work on tiktok / ao3 / wattpad, etc. It is meant for a tumblr-exclusive audience only 😚❤️‍🩹

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #n/s/f/w #trigun smut #vash smut #x reader #angel voices #vash the stampede

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kittyhuii · 9 months

Note

Sitting on wonwoo’s lap in a skirt without any underwear while he’s in his red fire costume from follow tour

This is my first request ever teehee! I hope you enjoy this anon! <3

Hearing the music die down and cheers slowly fade away from the concert hall, you figured that the boys have finally finished their recent ‘Follow to Seoul Tour'. You were sitting inside a room just a few steps away from the backstage, waiting for your boyfriend Wonwoo to come back after their performance. Hearing distant footsteps approaching the room, you sit up from the couch and wait patiently.

The door then busts open and a swarm of sweat-covered boys enter the room, you all greet each other with smiles and fond gestures. Finally, just a few more members walk by and you see your boyfriend, covered in red: a red leather jacket paired with red leather pants that were tightened with a black belt, and underneath he was wearing a see-through mesh, see-through enough for you to see his body. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a tiny bit aroused from this sudden choice of clothing your boyfriend had worn. Wonwoo sees you on your seat and he walks faster towards you, like a little kitten who got its interest piqued. Feeling the spot beside you sink down, you look beside you to see that the spot is now occupied by your boyfriend. “Hey!” he greeted, “Hey…” you reply back timidly as you steal another glance of your boyfriend in red, only this time you get to see more of him.

Seeing your unusual behavior, your boyfriend asks “Is there something wrong? You’re a bit quiet today” his voice laced with concern. “No!...” you replied a little too fast “I just think you look good with those clothes” you added, now with a faint blush evident on your cheeks. Wonwoo sees your adorable demeanor and he invites you to sit on his lap.

The corner of your lips curl up into a small smirk as you’ve led him right into your trap.

Despite being a tad bit nervous, you stood up from your seat and slowly made your way in front of Wonwoo. Your boyfriend was taken aback with seeing how short the skirt you were wearing was, your thighs on full display in front of him. At long last, you sit down on your boyfriend’s lap, feeling the foreign texture of the patent leather of his pants, you shift on his lap. After a few more shifts on your newly acquired seat on Wonwoo’s lap you’re settled. Wonwoo places both of his hands on your thighs, slowly he leads his own hands closer to the trap you’ve set for him. With both his hands now on the waistband of your skirt he gasps and whispers, “You’re not wearing anything under your skirt?” more of a whisper shout at this point because he did not expect this from you, especially since you both were outside. He lacked a proper response from you, only a few giggles sent his way and another shift on his lap. As you sit for a few more minutes on Wonwoo’s lap you couldn’t help but feel the erection that was forming under your boyfriend’s leather pants. Now with a newfound motivation to tease him, you subtly start to move and grind your hips on his lap, but your hips are put to a halt with a hard grip of both his hands. “Stop.” he said – commanded even – with a tone of his voice that you don’t usually hear.

“Just wait ‘til we get home, I’m going to fuck you stupid for trying to embarrass me” the words come out of his mouth with a manner that had chills sent down your spine. Instead of giving you the satisfaction from your teasing, he teases you back by ignoring your whines for attention until you both get home. And fucking you stupid is what he said and will do when he got the chance.

Not even a few steps into your shared home yet you were already slammed against a wall, his glove-covered hand on your hips as he gave you wet kisses from your neck, down to your collarbone. You ran your fingers through his hair as he started sucking on the skin on your collarbone, leaving a trail of love bites that lead up to your neck. Pulling away from your neck that was like a blank canvas now painted with shades of red and maroon, his other hand cups your cheek as he starts making out with you sloppily. Appalled from the sudden contact, you gasp, which your boyfriend took as a chance to let his tongue inside your mouth. Your tongues start to wrestle, creating lewd and languid noises that are heard across the living room.

Soon enough, Wonwoo was sick of the foreplay, dragging you by the arm into your shared bedroom, pushing you down the bed as he took off his red leather jacket – his biceps now at full display. He threw off the jacket to the corner of the room, his eyes now focused on you as he continued to strip off his clothes. You bit on your lip as you watched such a magnificent sight unfold in front of you. As he pulled down his boxers, his throbbing cock sprung out, seemingly pointing at you – its human fleshlight. Wonwoo was quick, he flipped your body, now you were laying on your stomach, with your ass up, ready to get fucked stupid like he said.

He flicked your skirt upwards, Wonwoo licked his lips upon seeing the state that you were in – sprawled on the bed with your ass up, desperate to get fucked. At long last, Wonwoo lined up himself in front of your entrance, the tip of his dick teasing your cock-hungry hole. In one swift motion, he slid his twitching cock inside you. Giving you just a few seconds to adjust, he starts thrusting, while you gripped onto the sheets and started letting out a string of curses from your mouth. His once slow and steady thrusts turn into pounding his cock inside you, hitting your sweet spot everytime, earning high-pitched moans from you.

Just a few more thrusts and you feel the knot in your stomach about to burst. “ Woo… I’m close” you whimper. “Me too– Fuck!” he exclaimed as he felt his climax approach. “I’m–” your words were cut off when the knot deep inside your stomach finally snapped, your arousal finally erupting from you. Not long after, your boyfriend also hit his climax, pulling out his cock from inside you, milking it as strings of white liquids release and pool on your stomach.

“The bath’s ready!” Wonwoo shouted from the bathroom. After such a hot session, a cold and relaxing bath is what you two deserve, giving each other utmost care and love that is needed. After the relaxing bath, you two lay on the bed and cuddle under the starlit sky. Words were exchanged, something in the lines between, “That red outfit looked so hot on you…” and “I love you”.

a/n: I lowkey got carried away with this hehe, but I really do hope yall enjoy this. Thank you all so much for the support that I've been getting the past month!

#seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt fluff #svt smut #wonwoo #wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo imagine #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #svt wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo

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tempobaekh · 9 months

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Bakugou Katsuki dating a hyper feminine fem!reader

(who is also the human embodiment of Barbie)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x hyper-feminine!fem!freader Warnings: fluff, maybe ooc bakugou? idk, the pictures at the top DO NOT indicate how the reader looks, reader is a Barbie dolls collector idk if that should be a warning I’m not good at this, there is nothing specific body type, hair texture or skin color described Note: Since I watched the Barbie movie I have been OBSESSED with it and hyper-fixated on it, so this idea came to my mind. I am not good at writing/writing headcanons so if it's bad please don't mind it. But do let me know what I can do better in the future.

Hyper and girly gf x grumpy and anger issues bf

Or la la la and ok ok ok

That’s literally you two

Dating someone who is hyperfeminine and is literally the human embodiment of Barbie would be an interesting dynamic for Bakugou

But yknow the saying ‘opposite attracts’

First time meeting you Bakugou would be utterly baffled at first by your pink-themed wardrobe, sparkly accessories, and bubbly personality; it would be completely alien to him.

At first, he might find you overly cheerful and appearance-focused. However, over time, he would begin to appreciate your confidence, bubbly personality, and unique traits (and also your odd obsession with collecting Barbies)

He might even secretly enjoy your knack for fashion and makeup although he will never understand your obsession with the color pink

OCCASIONALLY might let you do makeup on him bc he loves you too much to say no to you

Glaring at his reflection in the hand mirror with pink eyeshadow on his eyelid “I look ridiculous.”

but will literally threaten you if you tell someone what he doesn’t know is that you secretly took a picture of him with the pink and glittery makeup

Bakugou often reluctantly let himself get dragged by you to go shopping INSISTING on holding all your bags for you walking with you like an intimidating guard dog

Yknow that tik tok trend where a girl has night walking privilege and then they show their intimidating boyfriend walking with them? Yeah that’s you guys anywhere y’all go

Will glare and almost physically get ready to fight someone if they look at you oddly or comment on your appearance

The outfit contrast is COMEDIC between you two when you guys go out

Bc like you are all pink, bows, frills, sparkle, gems, and smiley

While he is all black, in large jackets, combat boots, hunched over shoulders, and a scowl on his face

Yall definitely get looks and double check by people

He will definitely give you self-defense lessons bc even though he is always there to protect you he needs to know if there is a situation where he can’t be there to protect you which is NOT often you can defend yourself

“If I’m not there to beat up some shitty idiot, at least you can kick some ass.”

“But I thought you would always be there to be my knight in shining armor.” you would say teasingly

Gets dizzy every time he sees your closet he's dramatic bc it’s all shades of pink, glitters, frills, and sparkles

Pointing at your high heels; “How the hell do you walk around in those death traps??”

Bakugou ALWAYS remembers every little thing about you

Like your favorite food, flower, color that is really obvious or snacks, he even remembers your favorite Barbie from your huge Barbie collection

Bakugou would struggle to express his feelings in words, but his actions would speak volumes he will go out of his way to ensure your comfort and safety, and his subtle ways of affection always make your heart flutter

Surprises you with an intimate candle-light dinner with a big bouquet of pink roses

“Don’t get used to this mushy crap, okay?” he would mutter with a small smile

And you would pinch his cheeks “Who knew you were so cheesy Katsu.”

And you appreciate his ways of showing affection

Bakugou once surprised you with a limited-edition Barbie that you had been wanting for a while and you cried

Y'all's dates might involve a mix of Bakugou’s preferred activities and your interests/ideas

So it’s a different type of date every time and each of them more fun and sweet than the last

Bakugou uses a few different pet names to call you by:

Doll/Dollface: Bakugou, at first, used the nickname with a hint of sarcasm but it evolves into an endearing term

Barbie: While this pet name seems like an obvious choice, Bakugou playfully uses it to acknowledge your resemblance to the iconic doll

Babe: A more casual and common term

Sunshine: He uses this term to acknowledge your bright and positive personality, even if he’d never admit that you have a positive influence on his mood

Princess: Bakugou might reluctantly use this pet name when he is feeling particularly soft towards you, even if he’d never say it out loud in public might let it slip once or twice

When you heard about the Barbie movie coming out you were SO EXCITED

Talking Bakugou’s ear off about the film and begging him to come with you

He is too whipped and can never say no to you so of course he is coming with you

You already had your outfit and makeup picked out for the film and also chose a Ken outfit for Bakugou fucking imagine him in the mojo dojo casa house Ken outfit with the fur coat SKSJSKJSJ which he hesitantly wore just to make you happy

He was definitely not enjoying himself by being your Ken no definitely not

He also bought you the Margot Robbie Barbie as a gift to surprise you and you swore you fell even more for the ruby eyed man in front of you

So in conclusion Bakugou loves you a lot and will do anything for you no matter what it is or how ridiculous it is

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback is appreciated.

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incognit0slut · 10 months

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Right Kind of Wrong (8)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer and Y/n get caught up in their newfound bliss. wc: 3,3k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content (this part includes chocking, slight cockwarming, unprotected sex, creampie, and sub Spence), graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

a/n: another smut update, enjoy it while it lasts because the plot will unravel soon

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

THE MOMENT HIS LIPS MET HERS WITH URGENCY, she knew there was no turning back. She could feel the taste of desperation and desire in his kiss, a bittersweet cocktail that ignited her senses. His lips moved with a raw intensity, as if desperate to imprint his very essence upon her, to leave an indelible mark upon her being.

Their breaths mingled; fevered and erratic as if trying to merge into one unified rhythm. And her hands, driven by instinct, clung to him with an intensity borne of the same desperation. Fingertips traced the contours of his jawline, mapping the strong curves of his face before they brushed the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her while her hips swayed along his groin.

While her hands threaded into his hair, his hands began roaming toward her waist as they slipped under her shirt. She gasped as his calloused fingers tugged at her nipples, twisting the buds between his thumb and forefinger over the sheer cloth of her bra. Underneath her, she could feel the length of him growing each time she moved. She could feel the sensation building in her body too as she continued to roll her hips, hiding her face in his neck.

The textured gabardine of his slacks rubbed against her in the sweetest way as a shudder rolled up her body. Spencer slid his hands down her waist before placing them on her backside, gently squeezing her ass while pushing and pulling her over him faster.

A breathless whine left her lips as his hardness caught her clit, her inner walls clenching around nothing as she began to grind herself frantically against him. "Shit, I'm close," she whispered against his skin, hands sliding down his body until she could feel his broad chest over his shirt.

Spencer's body tensed in surprise. "Just by this?"

She nodded. Experimentally, he thrust his hips a little harder into her, eliciting a breathless moan out of her. He couldn't stop the amused laughter falling from his lips, marveling at her reaction.

"And here I thought I wasn't good in bed," he commented.

She slightly leaned back to catch the amused glint in his eyes, and when she decided she didn't like his teasing, a newfound desire surged through her veins.

The smirk playing on his lips sent ripples of electricity coursing through her body, igniting a fire within her that demanded to be unleashed. Suddenly, she was no longer content to be the passive recipient of pleasure; she hungered for the taste of control.

So she grabbed onto the back of his head and tugged his hair, a surprised gasp falling from his lips as he saw a new intensity in her eyes.

"Stop gloating," she demanded, and then she devoured him, tasting his mouth all over again. Her kisses became bold and commanding, exploring every inch of his willing body with an intensity that left him breathless. He could sense a shift in the dynamics between them, a change that intrigued and aroused him in equal measure. Her sudden desire to take control awakened a thrilling sense of submission within him.

Then she pulled away and quickly took off her jacket before throwing it away somewhere in the room. Her shirt followed to the floor, and Spencer watched in anticipation as she unhooked her bra before she was left half-naked sitting on his lap. He gently reached out as his fingertips danced along her skin, burning wherever it touched.

He softly placed a kiss on the nape of her neck, his arms moving around her body before pulling her closer. "I think we should move to my bedroom."

"Why?"

His brows furrowed at the question as he leaned back. "Because the condoms are there?"

She gazed into the depths of his eyes, searching for the spark of understanding, the glimmer of reciprocation. Her heart beat in synchrony with the rhythm of her breath, both quickened by the anticipation of what was to come. She finally gathered her courage and broke the silence.

"I want to feel you."

His heart beat in tandem with the rhythm of this silent interlude, its pace quickened by the resonance of her words. "...what?"

"I want to feel you. I-I'm on the pill... and I'm clean," she added. "Are you?"

He slowly nodded, trying to catch any glimpse of doubt in her eyes but was met with none. "Well, yes, but are you sure? I can just go back there and get—"

"Do you not want to?"

A disbelief sound emitted from his chest. "Y/n, I'd be a fool to decline such an offer."

"Then let me feel you."

He pondered for a moment, wondering if this was a wise discussion. But as he studied her face, he couldn’t help but giving in, slowly giving her a deep, aching kiss, completely enthralled by the softness of her lips.

"Alright," he murmured against her mouth. "You'll feel every inch of me."

"Good." She gently got off his lap and undid her pants before sliding them down her legs, her underwear following along while her eyes never looked away from his face. "Now take off all your clothes."

It didn't take long for him to obey her command. She watched as he started unbuckling his belt and—how did he manage to make it look so sensual? His shirt came off after, then his loose slacks were thrown away, then his underwear was next to her pile of clothes on the floor. Then he was stark naked and she found herself irresistibly drawn to the allure of his body.

Her eyes traced the lines of his form with a reverence that borders on worship. From the broad expanse of his shoulders to the defined muscles that rippled beneath his skin, muscles that weren't made from working out, but probably made from his constant work on the field. The touch of her gaze caressed the contours of his soft abdomen before lingering between his legs.

His length laid heavily against his stomach and it took a lot of self-control for her not to drool. He was so thick and heavy, it was a sight that evoked a combination of awe, desire, and a profound appreciation for the beauty that lay before her.

"Y/n?" he asked, tilting his head to the side with an amused smirk. Her eyes immediately raised to his face, realizing she had been ogling without care.

There it was again, his infuriating smirk. As her eyes met him, an urge to wipe away the smug look on his face took over her. It was as if an untamed flame had been ignited within her, urging her to take the lead, to embrace her dominance.

She slowly made her way back to him. Once she threw each leg on either side of his thighs, she wasted no time and took his cock in her hand. She raised her hips as she stroked the tip of him between her slick folds, feeling him catch against her tight entrance as she let out an airy gasp.

A strangled moan escaped his lips. "You're so wet."

She smiled and then slowly lowered herself, and finally—finally—felt his girth stretch her. Her gasp was overthrown by the loud groan that left his lips as he entered her, his forehead falling on her shoulder.

"God, I forgot you feel so good," he growled in her ear.

He couldn't express the sensation with better words, it was as if he was stealing her exact thoughts. Their first night together was somehow a blur to her, but now... The burn of him stretching her felt amazing. She had already felt him inside her before, but she wasn't sure she felt as full as she did now. Her body was taking him so eagerly and with nothing else separating them, he felt so deliciously warm and hard she could practically feel his veins pulsing inside her.

She wanted to savor the moment, so she held onto him and silently sat there on his lap. She clenched her thighs on either side of his hips, trying to keep him still while he was buried deep inside of her, her walls twitching around him. Spencer's large calloused palms stroked along her exposed back and down towards her ass as goosebumps began to appear on her skin. Evidentially bored from the lack of movement, he tried to move her body, which she simply smiled in return.

"Stop doing that," she whispered and relaxed into his touch, nuzzling against his collarbone as she pressed chaste kisses along his chest.

"You're... not moving."

"You have to be patient."

A moan was caught up in his throat as her lips sent shivers all around his body. "You're such a tease."

"And you shouldn't have started being so cocky." She leaned into his ear, fingers running up the span of his chest. "Do you want me to move?" He desperately nodded as a wicked grin formed on her lips. "Then beg for it."

She felt him throbbing inside her, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. His hands hesitantly gripped onto her hips, unsure of himself. "Pl–please."

"Please what?"

"Please, move your hips," he pleaded, his voice taut in his throat, his muscles involuntarily contracting beneath her.

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

She then planted her knees on the cushions on either side of him and started to ride him in earnest, watching in awe as his mouth fell open and he truly wailed out his pleasure. He had never been quiet during their intimate moments, but this was loud, even for him. She was immersed in the symphony of his voice, an intoxicating melody that stirred her own desires and ignited a fire within.

And so she moved at a more rapid pace and another moan escaped his lips, followed by a soft whimper. His voice, unapologetically loud, became a source of empowerment and validation. Every passionate utterance reminded her that she was the catalyst of his pleasure. She found herself intoxicated by the knowledge that she had the power to elicit such a fervent response from him, to bring him to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.

Spencer's mind was numb, the tiredness he felt earlier seeped away from his body, replaced by a desperate need. It felt so good to be buried so deep inside her as he watched her bounce up and down so effortlessly. She was so warm, so soft... it was too much for him to bear. His eyes drew heavy as he watched, slack-jawed, hypnotized by her hips, helplessly lost in her rhythm as his hips rutted upward gently to meet hers at every fall.

"I can't—" Spencer growled as she suddenly reached up her body to squeeze her breasts while moving on top of him, the sight making him tremble. He watched as she pinched and tugged at her nipples while her hips jolted at a steady rhythm. Her name fell from his lips softly, barely above a whisper.

A coy smile stretched along her mouth. "What's wrong, Spencer?"

"S-stop." He stammered, trying to collect himself as he tried to ignore the throb between his legs. "I won't be able to last long if y-you—"

She grabbed onto his shoulders at his words and quickened her pace. "I'm not slowing down. You're close, aren't you?"

He nodded helplessly.

"Then come for me."

He leaned back and looked into her eyes. "B-But you haven't—"

"I said," she demanded, bouncing along his cock. "Come for me."

He was barely holding on. It wasn't that he didn't want to reach his high, just not like this nor this quick, but it seemed she had other plans for him and she was relishing in the power it gave her. She gently wrapped her fingers around his throat, watching his reaction.

His eyes widened with a mix of surprise and desire as the rhythm of their bodies heightened. She watched as he surrendered willingly to her every whim, his own desire mirrored in his eyes. Then her grip tightened and her touch was no longer gentle and yielding. He marveled at her newfound confidence, her eyes ablaze with a commanding presence that left him both awestruck and surrendered.

Her voice, once soft and submissive, now dripped with confidence and dominance. "I know you want to," she whispered, her lips grazing along his mouth. "Be a good boy and come for me."

He whimpered at her words but she could still feel him hanging onto the last thread of self-control that he had. She gripped his throat tighter and leaned into his ear.

"If you won't come, then I'll make you," she whispered, rolling his earlobe between her teeth gently before she intentionally squeezed her inner walls around him, strangling his cock in a vice grip as she rode him with renewed vigor.

It was enough for him to let go, his teeth latching onto the curve of her neck as he let out a crude hiss, a pleasurable moan coursing through him as he frantically jutted his narrow hips up to meet her brutal thrusts. She finally let go of her grip and cradled his head against her chest while she continued to bounce on his lap. Her legs were starting to ache with the strain, but she hardly felt it over the rush.

Moments after his body seized, his body lurched and shook with every spurt, a hoarse cry forced from his throat with each spasm. She willed her hips to slow to a lazy grind, ignoring the way her body screamed at her for it. But the sensation to reach her own pleasure was consuming her and she began to roll her hips, trying to focus on the sensation of his cock hitting the same spot each time.

Then she gasped, catching her off guard when she felt him thrusting his hips up into her, he was flinching from his release but seemed so desperate to please. "Let me do it, I want to feel you come."

She melted instantly, peppering grateful kisses all over his face. Then he slid in and out of her with ease, his release making it wet and slippery, in the best way.

"Spence," she gasped in surprise as each thrust had his cock dragging against her inner walls perfectly, her mouth open in a constant moan as she bounced on his lap. "Oh, my god. Yes, yes, yes."

Maybe this was why he liked having her on top of him so much. He marveled at the intricate dance of limbs and the exquisite weight of her form against his own. Her presence, so close yet so tenderly apart, sent a rush of sensations cascading through him. From his vantage point, he could admire the grace of her profile, the gentle sweep of her hair cascading over her shoulder, the delicate curve of her neck inviting the soft brush of his lips.

And as his eyes traveled down her body, he could see their bodies intertwining into one. He watched as he moved into her, leaving rings of her slickness and the evidence of his own release around the base of his cock. The crude sound of her slick walls squelching around him rang in his ears, and he continued thrusting his hips against the same spot inside her, focusing his movements as he worked her toward her release.

She could feel the familiar sensation in her stomach and she found herself clutching onto him tighter, her nose scrunching as she felt herself on the cusp of her climax. "Faster, Spence."

His movements became unrelenting, each thrust had him hitting that sweet spot and soon there was nothing she could do but let out a loud cry, her chest heaving as she tried to focus on the pleasure that was slowly taking over her rational thoughts, the coil inside her desperately close to breaking.

"Fuck," She gasped, her hands reaching over to hold his shoulders, nails leaving red lines in their wake as she felt herself teetering on the edge of her bliss. "I-I'm gonna—"

Then a loud moan ripped from her lungs as she felt her climax surge through her, her body trembling as he continued his harsh pace, hips clapping loud and furious into her. Then he pressed his lips onto hers, swallowing all her pleasant screams as he held onto her. His forceful thrust and sudden control over her had her sob against his mouth, thighs trembling on either side of his thighs. Her eyes rolled behind her closed lids, making a mess over his hips with how much liquid surged from her body.

She squirmed with a whimper when his hand swept over her back with a pleased, low rumble, his nose and parted lips nuzzling over her neck as she eased down her high. Rhythmic, vibrating purrs ran through him and lured her into relaxation as she panted and threw all of her weight on top of him.

Spencer felt her body relaxing and pulled her close as his thoughts suddenly swirled in a whirlwind of emotions. It was not long ago since the day he met her, yet he found himself inexplicably drawn to her, his heart entangled in a web of enchantment.

He questioned the depth of his emotions. How could such intensity blossom from a single night, into another intense night? It was as if the universe conspired to bring them together again, even if only for a fleeting moment.

And now he couldn't deny the surge of longing that coursed through his veins, the ache to delve deeper into her world. Thus, he found himself asking, "Stay here for the night."

Her breathing seemed to hitch at his words, her mind going into bewilderment. But then her heart softened as she melted further into his arms.

Was it foolish to yearn for something more, to desire a continuation of the connection they had forged? It probably was, considering the circumstances they had met. But she couldn't help it. It was just one night, right? She could let herself linger on this bliss for one night. Nothing less, nothing more. So she nodded, giving him her answer.

"Okay." Then she shifted across his lap and winced at the mess sticking between her legs. "I think I need a shower."

"Yeah," he noted. "We should probably wash ourselves."

She pulled away and gazed into his eyes with a small smile. "Was that an invitation?"

He thought for a while, examining every detail of her face. "Maybe."

Y/n wasn't sure how it happened but he somehow managed to stand himself up with her in his embrace. She wrapped her arms clumsily around his neck for support, gasping at his impulse gesture, her feet dangling on either side of him as she squealed.

"At least give me a warning!"

He grinned as he walked over to the bathroom with her clinging to him as if she weighed nothing.

And at that moment, she felt conflicted, not because he was inviting her to wash off their bodies together, but because truthfully, she wanted it as much as he did. It was the way how laughing with him after something so intense seemed surprisingly natural. It was also the way her mind kept on reminding her of what they did, what they were about to do, and what she was currently feeling, and the latter she had no clue of answering.

Whatever. She would think of it later, she was going to have this moment for one night. For now, she was going to scrub away the smell of sex in the proximity of the man she couldn't keep her hands off, pulling him closer as he finally steadied her back to her feet—kissing him once again underneath the warm spray of water.

She would think of the consequences tomorrow.

>> NEXT PART

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