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#i have clearly reached a new low
truebluesanji · 4 months
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omfg I opened up my laptop to show my family something and I forgot that the last thing I had open was SANJI FANFICTION I AM SO EMBARRASSED
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sttoru · 9 months
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“DO NOT INTERRUPT.”
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༄ sypnosis. toji has bought you to his apartment for a quickie before he has to take on another job. toji’s agent, shiu, seems to interrupt the moment at the wrong time.
༄ note. listen i need them both in me okay.. don’t blame me f this .ehemmm, enjoy. this post contains smut. proceed at your own risk. part 2 here.
༄ tags. dom!toji x female reader. daddy kink, breast play, (implied) threesome, voyeurism, free use, dumbificiation, objectification, belly bulging, p in v — unprotected, you r not in a romantic relationship in this, toji is arrogant and a player ig, reader gets called ‘little girl, pretty, doll, sweet thing’
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“toji. we don’t have all day.”
a muffled, male voice echoes through the hallway of toji’s apartment. it was a voice which toji had grown to dislike; especially due to the fact that it has interrupted many intimate moments he had with his women.
an example of such moments being now. toji had invited you over for a quickie before he had to leave to take care of a bounty he accepted. he needed to relieve his stress somehow (especially due to the constant nagging from his agent).
“tsk,” toji grumbles a few incoherent curses under his breath as he continues to drill his cock into your cunt, “can’t ya let me enjoy my woman properly for once?”
“ah, fuck, yeah—take it.” the assassin grunts, this time to you as he forces your thighs further apart; an attempt to bully his swollen tip as far as it could reach.
you hadn’t even noticed the other manly voice which didn’t belong to toji, nor had you realised that the owner of that voice slowly started to come closer to the living room. you were too lost in the pleasure you were getting as the man on top of you rubbed a calloused finger over your clit.
the heavy footsteps of toji’s agent tapping against the wooden floor increased in frequency until they eventually stopped at the door; shiu leaned against the frame, one hand in his pocket while the other held a cigarette to his lips.
“that a new one?” shiu asks as he nods his head at you, who was clearly too busy to even notice his presence in the room.
shiu’s eyes shamelessly wandered across your naked body. as much as he didn’t want to admit it out loud, the erotic sight was making him forget about the job the two were supposed to get done by the evening.
his lazy gaze was focused on the way your cunt swallowed toji’s dick, your tits that bounced with every thrust and your glossy lips that babbled mindless words.
“yeah—shit, look at her, takin’ my cock so well.” toji eventually answers in a low groan, his grip on the back of your thighs tightening as to not give you the chance to escape, “gonna need to keep her ‘round so i can use her whenever.”
your blurry vision made it hard for you to see anything but toji clearly. your hands were desperately clinging onto his biceps which tensed each time you held or caressed them in the slightest.
your eyes slowly wandered from toji to the figure standing in the doorway. you couldn’t make out who it was.
“eyes on me, little girl.” toji scoffs, one hand coming up to forcefully turn your jaw so he’d be able to look into your teary eyes, “that’s it—lemme see those pretty eyes of y’rs as i fuck you, yeah?”
multiple whimpers reverberated throughout the living room as your poor body was pushed back on the couch due to toji’s massive weight leaning on top of yours. you could see the way the scarred corner of his lips curled into a smirk, completely enjoying the taste and view of your body.
“just like that, pretty. mhm, look at me.”
as toji continues to stretch out your little cunt—entirely ignoring his agent watching the two of you as always—shiu takes a long drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out.
as much as shiu wanted to deny that the sight had turned him on, the slight twitch in his pants said otherwise. the agent keeps his eyes on your body; shiu’d seen toji bring in many women before, however you and your high pitched moans that filled the air were too addictive. hypnotising almost.
though, shiu knew that at least one person in the room needed to stay rational. toji was obviously thinking with his dick and not his head at the moment.
“come on. time’s tick—” before shiu could finish his sentence, toji had already started to talk instead.
“shhh,” toji shushes his agent in slight annoyance, wanting nothing more than to enjoy you without having someone interrupting, “if ya ain’t gonna join, might as well shut it.”
that latter made shiu freeze in place a little, glancing from you to toji and back. shiu quickly clears his throat, rolling his eyes at the words uttered to him.
he takes a quick drag from his cigarette again, letting the ashes scatter on the floor. “i’d have to decline that offer.”
toji grins from ear to ear—eyes still focused on the way your body was quivering underneath him. his thick hand presses on your lower abdomen, feeling the outline of his dick on his palm.
“yeah? ‘re ya sure?” toji hums, finally averting his gaze from your curves to look at his agent. toji immediately knew that shiu was holding himself back, trying to play the ‘professional’ part.
a low, mocking scoff leaves toji’s lips before he looks back at you; slamming his hips against yours even harder, his heavy balls slapping against the flesh of your ass with each pump.
“i’m sure this sweet thing won’t mind being shared,” he adds, voice so sultry that it would be enough to put you in a trance, “right, doll?”
the only thing you were capable of doing was moaning and whimpering. you tried to answer him, however you cut yourself off once you felt toji flick his tongue over your nipple.
“mmh ! aah— nhh, t-toji, toji!” you repeated his name in such a sinful manner that made toji let out an arrogant laugh; he’s never failed even once to reduce the women he slept with to mindless toys who only know how to scream out his name.
“aww, can’t talk now, can ya?” toji snickers, “let daddy do the talking for ya, ‘kay? no need to have my little girl overstimulate herself.”
you nod at his words without second thoughts, drooling over yourself as your legs trembled from literally being pounded into the soft couch.
toji turns to his agent again, keeping the fast and quick tempo, the wet sounds of your own fluids mixing with his almost driving him to the edge. the loud sounds of his thrusts were impossible to ignore as well.
“i’m givin’ ya a nice opportunity here,” toji starts, swearing under his breath as he felt you tighten up around him once he hit that sweet spot inside of you.
“i ain’t the type to share my women, y’know? better make up y’r mind quick before ‘m done with her.”
shiu’s gaze flickers from your spent body to toji and then he sighs deeply. he flicks his cigarette to the side after thinking it through.
he doesn’t have much time to meet women any way. he might as well take the generous chance that was given to him.
shiu walks up to the two of you on the couch, his veiny hand already loosening his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt.
“fine, but we have ten minutes.”
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 months
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But do you love me?
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a/n this just came out of nowhere. Had a little break and my brain said Azriel. So, I said yes in return.
summary: Azriel and oc having silly conversations before falling asleep. Or more like Azriel dealing with a slight sleep deprived lover.
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It was late, and Azriel was more than thankful that he had a chance to slip away from his family and spend the night on the outskirts of Velaris, tangled up in his lover's embrace. The relationship was fairly new. Azriel had fought his heart and feelings as if it were a battle of survival for a handful of months. He denied the fuzzy feelings until he was blue. He crushed the delicate butterflies every chance that he got. Waiting for you to leave. To come to your senses and realize that he wasn’t worthy of your love.
But you stayed. Stayed and fought back. Not letting him fully push you out. Always showing up. Always remember the little things that Azriel enjoyed. From knitted sweaters to lavender tea. From slightly open windows at night to lemon sugar cookies. You let him set the pace with almost everything. Physical touch was a touchy subject, no pun intended, for the spymaster, so you let him make the first move. Get familiar with what he liked. Yet Azriel was convinced that he was never going to forget the smile on your face when he finally reached to hold your hand after your tenth date. The sky might have been full of stars that night, but your eyes shone brighter then the brightest start in the sky ever could.
Now the spymaster let out a content sigh at the feeling of you pressing against his chest. The hour was rather late, but since both of you had no plans, neither of you cared about it. But it did feel heavenly to finally lay between plush sheets after a long day. Azriel was a step from slipping into blissful sleep when he felt you turning in his embrace. Your palms pressed into his bare chest as you moved to hover over him slightly.
The shadowsinger opened one of his eyes lazily. You were biting your lip. A sign that something was still brewing in your head. Azriel tried to suppress his smile at the sight of you like that, slowly reaching to push some loose strands of hair behind your air.
“Out with it, my love," he muttered softly, watching as your eyes landed on him, instantly sparking way brighter. “This is serious, by the way," you warned him instantly, making Azriel frown slightly. “I never said that it wasn’t. What’s keeping you up?" He shifted his body slightly as well, wanting to have a good look at your face.
You watched him for a heartbeat before muttering, “Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Azriel stilled for a moment, letting your words sink in. For a moment, he thought that maybe he had heard you wrong, but the determination on your face washed that thought away.
“Yes, sweetheart, I would still love you," he reassured you, but you shook your head, muttering, “No, don’t think about me as in me; think about me as a worm," you added in a serious tone. Azriel bit the inside of his cheek, “Yeah, I think you would make a pretty cute worm." He nodded his head, making sure to keep his face straight.
“What about if I was a dust bunny?", you practically cut into Azriel’s last statement, making the male let out a low chuckle, but since your mind was working faster than Azriel could pull himself to answer, your palms hit his chest in excitement as you muttered, "No, I have a better question; do you think butterflies are intelligent?”.
That sent Azriel into a full-body laugh. He simply couldn’t contain his laugh anymore. It’s not so much that he found it silly and pointless. It’s the way you were determined to get an answer as if it determined the most important part of your life.
“I'm serious, Azriel," you groaned, clearly not as pleased with your boyfriend’s reaction. Azriel nodded his head, still smiling. "Yes, I think they are." You nodded alongside him, "But... Why?”. Azriel bit his lip, trying not to fall into another fit of giggles as he muttered, “Go to sleep, baby." Tugging at your arm, Azriel hoped to get you closer to him once more. But you had other plans and turned to flop down on your back next to him instead. "No, how will I sleep now?", you huffed, raising your hands in frustration.
"Love," Azriel pleaded. It was entertaining to watch you in your slightly sleep-deprived form. Not to mention that it got him thinking about how a night after Rita’s would look if this was how your brain worked when you were tired. “Where do they fit their brain?", You tapped your finger against your forehead, frowning slightly. “Oh, Mother, please," Azriel growled, turning to flop right onto your chest. Aware of his size and weight, but enough to keep you in one place. And most importantly, to keep you close to him. Azriel gently nuzzled against your neck, opting to leave a kiss or two as he went. And was more than happy to feel your hands slowly moving to scratch the back of his neck as your fingers tangled in his hair.
"But..." you muttered after a moment. “Do you love me?” Your voice was barely a whisper. "Yes," Azriel muttered again, pulling back to brush his nose against yours before leaning closer to capture your lips in a kiss. He knew that, for the most part, you had been anxious to date him too. And even if this was all fun and games, Azriel couldn’t help but wonder if, in a way, this was your nagging doubts needing that extra reassurance.
“But do you?", your delicate gaze searched him. Azriel crooked his head to the side. “I just said yes. My answer hasn't changed, love," his fingers gently brushed against your cheek. “But you said it without you knowing..." Your voice died down as you searched for the right words. A slight frown paints your face. “Without what?", Azriel smiled at you, waiting patiently for you to pick up your battle in your head.
“Without the bedazzle," you crinkled your fingers, narrowing your eyes. “A what?", Azriel was left frowning once more. “The umpf," you urged, making tiny expressions with your hands. Azriel let out a low sigh. “You are losing the plot,” He moved one of his arms around your middle, pulling your body closer to him as he turned to lay back on his back. “Go to sleep," he muttered against your ear.
But your peaceful stillness lasted no longer than a heartbeat. “That was mean," you pouted at your boyfriend. "Love", Azriel grunted as you pushed against his chest to sit up. His fingers tried to hold you back, but you batted his hands away. “Naah, now I don't want to sleep facing you," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. Trying to keep a serious face even if the look on Azriel’s face was worthy of a chuckle. You watched as he calculated his next answer before muttering,
“Are you about to start your cycle?”, the moment a gasp left your lips, Azriel knew that he shouldn’t have. Both his and Rhys’s mothers had drilled it into their heads that one should never ask females questions regarding their cycles, especially ones that imply their behavior being affected by it.
“Azriel, I will suffocate you in your sleep”, you scrunched up your nose right as Azriel leaned over to tackle you into the plush sheets, once again wrapping you in his warmth. You, however, didn’t give up the fight, wiggling in his embrace. I tried to huff and puff, but soon the sounds turned into laughter. “Stop moving around," Azriel chimed as his fingers danced along your ribcage. “You are squishing me," you wheezed, your eyes filling up with tears. Happy tears. Azriel kissed them away one by one. “Give up the fight, darling," he mussed, “and just go to sleep, please." Azriel chuckled as you tapped against his chest, taking in deep breaths to catch your breath.
“But do you love me?", you bit your lip, trying to suppress yet another chuckle when Azriel dropped his head back with a growl. Exposing his toned neck. Making his ink-covered muscles flex. Before he narrowed his eyes at you. “Yes, yes, and yes," he stated. “Even if you were a worm, a slug, a bird, a boat, or a sticky bun," Azriel listed one thing after another. “I love you now and most definitely will love you in another lifetime." His hazel eyes were full of affection as he spoke. "Screw that," he huffed, leaning in to press his forehead against yours, “I will love you in all the universes, all the worlds." The shadow singer watched as you bit your lip, trying to suppress the wobble in your chin. “Even if you’re a wildflower in the field and I’m the morning breeze passing through, I will still love you”, Azriel’s words were met with a shaky exhale. And then both your legs and arms were messily wrapped around him as you pulled him closer. “Careful, or I will crush you," Azriel chuckled, trying to keep some of his weight off you, but you didn’t seem to mind. “You are the sweetest, most precious male I have ever met," you muttered into his embrace. “Doubt that..." Azriel had begun to object to the fact that you had called him precious, but your finger had found his lips before he could say anything else. “I love you, and to me, you will always be just Azriel," you said, “My Azriel with a heart of gold."
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bits-and-babs · 7 months
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✦ 𝐏𝐈𝐗𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 ✦
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– KINKTOBER DAY 1: CAMGIRL!READER
simon riley x camgirl!reader | smut, 18+ | 1.3k words
summary: a new client sends a request for a solo-cam performance. his lack of detail and scarce details leave you unprepared.
cw: f!reader, sexwork, dirty talk, breast-play, m & f masturbation, use of sex toy, use of honorific 'sir' but no real power dynamic.
⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED ⇾
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❝On Deployment. Don’t be afraid.❞
Cryptic in its context, the message that popped up from your new client in the lower right corner of your computer screen made you smirk at the time. However, gazing at the skull-faced mask that materialised on the pixelated video screen when you answered the video call that swiftly followed, your amusement slips from your lips. Username ‘Ghost’ hadn’t been making some kind of arcane joke about the size of his dick being too much for you… 
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“Oh,” you let out a weak laugh, eyes slipping over the grainy footage as ‘Ghost’ leaned back in his seat, immense, bulging arms crossing over the plane of his chest, “When you said… I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Can’t take off the mask,” the gruff, northern accent that rumbles through the computer speakers sends a ripple down your spine– a concoction of a nervous chill and delighted arousal. It metastasises in your guts when you watch him spread his legs, the blackness in the eye sockets of the skull burning through you even behind a screen. “The URA don’t take kindly t’people contactin’ cam-girls.”
URA. United Republic of Adal.
“You’re– On a military base?” The question passes your lips before you have the opportunity to think better. The plain black t-shirt stretched across his humongous frame gives little away, but the khaki-camo pants and the silver dog tags glinting in the low light of the room seem to corroborate his claims. 
“Can’t divulge that information.”
Of course he couldn’t. Obviously. 
“Y’can call me sir.” ‘Ghost’ clearly had experience contacting cam-girls, leading with his preferred address. It’s impossible to ignore that tingling arousal creeping into the pit of your stomach again, knowing you were in for a ride– so to speak. 
“Yes sir,” you answer to his demand, watching as ‘Ghost’ rubbed his palms over the top of his camo-clad thighs. You note the grainy blackness across the back of his hands; a tattoo. Most clients were secretive in their own camera-exposure, focusing the frame on their head and shoulders while pleasuring themselves off camera. ‘Ghost’s’ whole body was on display, offering just as much of a show for yourself. 
It was thrilling. 
“Lose the bra.” 
“Yes sir,” you nod, compliant to his demands. Reaching behind your back, you unclasp the lacy bra you’d chosen specifically for this cam-session. Your contact with ‘Ghost’ had been minimal, limited in the information he would reveal to you. It was entertaining this way, guessing at what you should wear like taking a crack at an enigma code. A shot in the dark; you’d gone for simple black. Slowly slipping the unadorned bra from your arms, you made a note of your victory when you hear–
“Fuck, that’s it,” ‘Ghost' mumbles beneath his breath, and you’re unsure if he was unaware of the sensitivity of his microphone, or if he’d meant for you to hear his whispered praise. You can’t find it in yourself to warn him when his palm settles over his crotch, inhaling sharply as he lifts his hips up to grind into it. 
Cupping your breasts in your hands, you squeeze the supple flesh so it bulges slightly between your fingers. It’s as natural as breathing now, a learnt behaviour after months of cam-work. Nothing special, but it gets ‘Ghost’s’ attention. 
“Hmm, fuckin’ ‘ell,” he groans softly, quick to work himself out of the khaki uniform trousers. You have half a mind to inform his superior that one of his soldiers had stolen a weapon from the armoury, watching him wrap his hand around his throbbing cock in a tight fist. “Get real close to the camera. Wanna see you fuck yourself, love.” 
You remember his initial request, much like his communications with you; simple and lacking detail. ‘Fuck urself w/ ur largest toy. Panties on’. Though, gazing at the image of him on your computer screen through heavy lids, you weren’t sure even your largest dildo compared to the girth he held in his hand. The ruddy tip is shiny, and you can just barely make out the shadows of bulging veins where his palm couldn’t reach. 
“Fuckkk,” ‘Ghost’ groans when you ease the tip of the toy in, camera angled just right to see you clench around the silicone but also to show your eyes rolling back. “That’s it. Greedy cunt’s swallowin’ it all. Look at you creamin’ around it–”
For a man so unwilling to talk much in any other set of circumstances, ‘Ghost’ was particularly mouthy now. Even as the head of the toy touches something mind-numbing inside of you, a delirious, breathy giggle escapes you at the thought. 
Beginning to push the toy in and out of your cunt, you watch ‘Ghost’ begin to fist his cock with a grunt. His eyes stay glued to the screen, enraptured by the way your walls squeeze the toy so tightly. It’s hard to miss the way his lungs rattle with unsteady breaths, the sheer size of him making a slight tremble appear like a shudder so violent it could trigger an avalanche. 
“Christ, I’d fuckin’ ruin you. Fuckin’ split you open and flood that cunt with my cum,” he moans, the sound wanton and wholely unmatching his intimidating size. It takes you a moment for your vision to focus before you note the slow, methodical rise of his fist, matching the strokes of the toy inside of you. 
Like he was imagining fucking you. 
Your own arousal spiking with the realisation, you thrust the toy inside of you quicker, more eagerly. It's ecstasy, the head of the toy spearing something inside of you that has your legs quaking. “Ugh– hhahah, ohmygod, oh fuck–” 
‘Ghost’ continues to talk you through your squeals of delight, his gruff voice particularly throaty now as he matches the violent thrusts of the toy. “Good fuckin’ girl, love. If you were here I’d fuckin’ paint your face with it– fuck!”
It’s like a chain reaction, the usually stoic man’s filthy comments causing a visible clench of your cunt when you cum around the toy. It makes ‘Ghost’ cum. White floods your vision, but the static sound in your ears can’t drown out the gruff, choked sounds that play from your speakers. 
When your blurred vision finally centres, ‘Ghost’s’ fingers are drenched with thick ropes of cum, the creamy spend dropping from his knuckles onto the khaki of his trousers. Leaning his head over the back of the chair with a shaky exhale, the black hem of the ski-mask rides up slightly, exposing the bulging veins beneath the pale, rosy skin of his neck. It’s a tantalising glimpse of the man behind the obscure username, underneath the skeleton-veil. Instantaneously, you’re like an addict– desperate for more, one hit isn’t enough to satiate the screaming need inside of you for another inch of skin. 
It’s why you leap out of bed at 04:27am when you receive a message weeks after you’d hit ‘end call’, the promise of your next fix delivered in a cryptic message deposited in a private messaging chat that had lay dormant since the footage went black. 
‘Want u on ur knees this time. Panties in ur mouth, fingers in ur cunt.’ 
Biting on a grin, you rush to answer. He was still in the URA, the digits on the clock in the top right of your phone evidence of a timezone difference. It was still relatively early there– like he’d finished his shift and immediately contacted you. Like he couldn’t wait to jack off to the image of you stuffing your cunt with your fingers and whining his name. 
Fuck the four figure amount he’d deposited into your bank as thanks for the last video call, the thought alone is enough to urge your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, circling your clit as you clumsily type with one hand to respond to his demand. 
‘Yes sir x’ 
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cod mwii/kinktober taglist:
@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57 @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @tusk89 @bellasbees01 @dog55teeth
@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk
@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh
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erideights · 7 months
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Little pieces here and there (3)
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Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: one, two, four, five
Word Count: around 2K again.
Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times
A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)
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Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.
Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.
Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.
That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.
(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.
Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.
Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.
Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?
Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.
After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.
At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.
"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."
Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.
"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.
"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."
"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.
"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.
"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.
"Take a guess"
"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"
The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.
His eyes darken, and his voice goes octanes lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."
She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.
He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.
"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."
By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.
At least until they reach Arlong Park.
Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.
Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.
A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.
She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.
Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.
The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.
Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.
Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.
It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--
And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.
"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.
‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’
And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.
Bastard.
''You better'', she whispers to herself.
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eveningepiphany · 9 months
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tease | H.S oneshot
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summary: seeing harry tonguing his guitar last night has you finally admitting the state he puts you in. and that’s never good when you’re a tour photographer. especially now you have photographic evidence of the moment.
warnings: SMUT, oral (fem rec), dirty talk, praise, swearing
a/n: can’t stop thinking about that fucking video? like it’s on loop in my head I can’t. he was so slutty last night it’s illegal. also this isn’t 100% proofread so enjoy I hope it’s okay!
———
Some days at work are harder than others for you.
Today, you knew was going to be rough the second Harry walked out in single-handedly the most revealing outfit he could have. Borderlining absolutely slutty.
And as his tour photographer, that is quite a bold statement to make when you’ve seen every single outfit— and when his top half is often found shirtless up on stage.
But tonight, out backstage when you were prepping your SD cards and ordering your camera lenses, he walked out of his dressing room adorning his stage outfit to show you, and your stomach dropped the sight of him.
It was a new style, something he hadn’t worn before. A cropped, tasseled blue vest, paired with low rise pants that looked like they were clinging onto his hips for dear life.
“Alrighty, what d’ya think?” He asked, doing a little spin to shake the tassels.
Your mouth opened and words struggled to form as your head fogged over from just seeing his body. And the way his ferns were fully out— along with almost all of his other ink on display. Arms, chest and all.
You had sworn this, many times, was just your eye for art. For people like him who made photography electric. But as time and the tour progressed on from its earlier start in 2021, it was getting harder to convince yourself. Because even if you didn’t acknowledge it, there was no way to justify the heat that stirred in your stomach as just admiration.
“Oh— wow— I like the tassels,” you paused, tongue swiping over your lips, “they’ll be really fun in the photos, I’ll try to get some motion blur type shots with them.”
Your hand reached out before your brain even computed what it was doing, grabbing one of the rhinestoned threads at the base of his vest and running down it. Knuckles brushing the side of his chest.
“Excited to see them as always, m’lovely.” He smiles, the pet name making you flush.
“10 minutes till you’re on, H!” Someone called out.
You laughed at the panicked expression on his face as he realised he was probably dawdling, and in fact behind on his own schedule.
“Alright!” He confirmed back, then chuckling as he whispered to you, “I still gotta brush m’teeth.”
“Well, cmon let’s go, I’ll see what behind the scene shots I can get.”
And you thought that the time spent with him pre-show would ease your racing mind a little, but now that you’re out on the floor you’re almost jittering.
He looks fucking delectable. And by the sound of the stadium around you, they notice it too.
As he steps out you have to force your camera up to your face, which is something you never have to do? But looking at him through your viewfinder is hardly enough to satiate you.
Especially a little later in the show, when your camera is aimed to the back of him— and he’s squated down to get a drink of water…
His pants slipping so far down his hips that the waistband of his Calvin Kleins are easily visible.
Some girls on barricade behind you are going feral simply at the sight. And you can hardly blame them, because the sight of them makes you a little light headed too. Tonight he’s really not leaving much to the imagination.
You feel obliged to take a photo of it, lens aiming up to him— hearing the girls from behind you as your cameras shutters open to capture the moment. They’re shouting clearly, “Y/N, you get that pic girl!”
Another one yelling from your left, “SHES ONE OF US!”
You laugh at them. The fans are always an amazing part of the show. You leave with an array of adorable bracelets, funny shirts, and always lovely compliments.
You snap a few more photos before someone calls your name again, and you turn. A brunette girl, in an incredible replica of his recent purple and black heart overalls from the recent Wembley show, is standing.
“Y/N!” She reaffirms when you’re looking at her.
“Hi lovely, your outfit is amazing.” You smile, and she has fresh tears streaming down her face— a common love on tour occurrence.
“Ohmygod, thank you so much. I made you this tshirt, i wanted to give it to you!” She pulled a white shirt from her feet, presumably from a bag.
She held it out, unfolding it to show off the print on the front.
You immediately couldn’t help but let out a shocked laugh at it. A big pink shaded heart, with 2 also heart-shaped photos on each side of it— of you and Harry. But the best bit was the bubble written font, “my favourite parents!” that is above it.
“I— can I please take a photo of you with it first.”
She slaps a hand over her mouth, “No way, of course you fucking can.”
You take a few photos of her posing with the shirt, “I have 2, please feel free take them both!”
You can only assume one of them is intended for Harry. And even if it’s a little weird of you to take them, you do anyway because the girl was too lovely to even consider denying them.
“Thank you so much.” You chuckle as you hang them over your elbow. She still looks starstruck at the interaction that just occurred and you’re overly excited to edit the photos later on.
In the time of the short interaction, you turned to find Harry. He’s about to transition into she, and is over on the main stage.
You hustle to get yourself up from the floor and onto the stage area. Moving to chuck the shirts on the bench, where most of the bands essentials are for easy access.
Harry sees you over there and you decide to show him the design on the front before you can overthink it.
He’s beginning to sing the intro, and he chuckles the lyrics into the mic as he sees it. And fans around the whole arena scream at the shirt— which you didn’t realise was being displayed on the big screens.
You shake your head, struggling not to admire the tone of his laugh that just echoed around the stadium.
Also blushing a little at the fact you did genuinely just show him a shirt with both of your faces of it, deeming you both as a fans ‘parents’.
You go back to doing your actual job, moving to get a good angle, aiming to blend back into the background as you take more photos for the night.
Capturing the sway and jolts of his tassels as he sings. Getting a few shots that not only capture his energy but also his outfit perfectly.
You smile at yourself and at your work.
And you glance up as Harry joins in with Mitch while he absolutely shreds his guitar solo.
Sweat is beading on Harry’s chest and you’re all too aware how much money people would pay to see it from your angle. Thank god for Barcelona’s heat.
And, fuck, not only is it that. His arms look perfect as well. This outfit is really just showing as much of himself off as possible.
You change the settings on your camera hastily to alter the outcome of these next few shots.
He’d stepped away from the mic, turning to look at the band, mouthing something you couldn’t decipher.
He starts to lean down head getting closer to guitar. His tongue juts out…
Your eyes immediately pull back a little from your camera because, there no fucking way he’s about to let some kind of intrusive thought win here.
Time seems to slow. But not the movement of his tongue. It’s flicking fast, as if to mimic it playing the strings of his guitar. Or something like that anyway, because all you can think of is… well… something too inappropriate to even be entertaining in your head given he’s literally your boss.
You can hear the piercing screams around you, someone in the front shouting what the fuck loud enough you swear someone in the back of the stadium could’ve heard it.
You’re not even aware you bought your camera back up to your face and that you’d clicked the button a few times until it’s done and the moments over.
Harry’s laughing at himself, and Sarah is face palming at his lewd action. His smug smile after solidifies the fact he knows what the fuck he just did. And exactly the kind of effect it’s left on some people.
Just not aware you’re one of them…
Because you can’t deny the way you spent rest of the night with a nagging warmth between your legs. One that festered long after the moment was over.
After the show came to a close and you eventually ended up in your hotel room, freshly showered as you edited some of your favourite photos. Including the shots you’d captured of him and his guitar.
Which were fucking insane. You had just the right amount of contrast going on in them, and a certain degree of motion blur that indicated the movement his tongue was making.
The final product was amazing once you had edited it on photoshop. But you spent the remainder of the night in your hotel room ridiculously worked up. Left in bed toying with your clit lazily as you stared at the celling, acting like you didn’t have a specific person in your thoughts.
It got to the point in the next day where you stressed about what photos to show him. And whether or not that included the one you literally came to the thought of last night?
Usually you wouldn’t hesitate, especially since it looked incredible. But you were embarrassed internally. What would he think, or say? And could you even play off your sheer attraction to the image.
You placed your head in your hands with a groan, sat in the chair over by the window. You’re tired, and swear on your life your decision making is going to be impaired when he walks into your room.
Which you didn’t have much more time to stress much about it as a knock came to your door that you knew was him.
You rushed over to open it, finding him standing there, hair freshly washed and clad in much more clothing then you last saw him in. A plain white shirt and some gym shorts— that still made him look hot as fuck, without even trying?
He greets you with a good morning, voice a tad hoarse from last nights show. And he’s smiling as he hands you a cup, one you know is filled with hot chocolate. Just for you.
“I owe you like 100 hot chocolates for how many you’ve bought me just in this leg of the tour alone.” You laugh, letting him past you.
He glances at the unmade bed— you stopped making it a while after he started to come visit your room the morning after the show to pick which photos he liked best, and ones he also wanted edited. Sometimes he’d settle himself on it, legs crossed like a cute little kid.
“Think of it as a gift for all your talent. And putting up with me.” He chuckles, and plops himself down on the chair that’s opposite to the one you were sitting in.
So you follow suit, walking back over the your chair. Taking a small sip of the sweet liquid in your hands.
“Have any favourites so far?” He asks, taking a quick swig of his own drink— which you can only assume is hot tea.
Yes, you think, the one where you’re about to practically fuck your guitar strings with your tongue.
You substitute that for, “A few! The tassels were so fun to try and capture.”
You rotated the laptop screen to show him a cool shot you edited of him. It was a front on photo, his arms extended and washboard abs in their full fucking glory along with his tattoos.
He nods, a smile coming across his lips, crinkling the corners of his slightly tired eyes.
You showcase him a couple, all that he gives relentless praise on— regardless of if they had been edited or not. But you just want to show him your favourite.
You swallow as you stare at it on the screen of your macbook. Working up the courage to turn the screen to him as he waits cluelessly. Does he even know you took this?
“This one too…” you hesitate a little as you swivel the laptop around on your lap.
“Oh. I like this one a lot.” He says, nodding and then glancing up from the screen to your semi-flushed face.
“Didn’t know you took that.” He chuckles, shrugging and almost seeming… like he has more to say about this situation.
Like something is laying on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be said.
You think he’s not going to though, after a beat of silence, you nod.
“Yea… what actually are you doing in this photo?” You nervous laugh, and wonder what kind of answer he’s going to provide.
He runs a hand through his curls, brows raised a little at your question.
“What did you think I was doing?” He quizzes, the corner of his mouth turning up.
“I- well it looked quite… everyone in the audience was going wild. Were you trying to be a tease?”
“I wasn’t! I swear. I was playing the guitar.” He confirmed, yet smirking like he knew there was a two-way perception of the event.
“With your tongue?” You sighed out a laugh.
“You still didn’t answer me. What did you think I was doing?” He backtracks, eyes watching you intensely as you’re both entering some rather dangerous, untouched territory.
You’re quiet again, and he raises his brows still expecting a response.
You flush under his gaze, hand coming to cover your eyes. “It just looked very…”
“Very…?”
“Inappropriate.” You laughed, feeling like you were emotionally torturing yourself by letting this situation happen.
“How so?” He continues to push, wanting to hear more. Secretly adoring the way you get all flustered about it. How badly he wants you to tell him exactly what the movement of his tongue reminded you of.
“It just— you know what I mean, Harry!” You say, now being the one trying to backtrack out of this entire situation. That in the end is still technically your own fault.
You distract yourself with other photos, going in and trying to find another possible contender for his new post on instagram.
“Don’t try and avoid the conversation, love.” He chuckles at your sudden shy demeanour.
“Harry.” You place your hand over your face again trying to mentally reset yourself. Put your thinking back in line.
“Cmon! I’m just curious.” He tries to brush it off, but if he has to resort to begging, he honestly wouldn’t hesitate.
“I know you are, but— it’s weird!” You whine, wanting to die at the fact you had let this happen in the first place.
“I promise I won’t judge.” He places his hand over his heart, face serious, like he was swearing it on his bloodline.
You thought about it a little longer. He clearly was not going to leave you alone if he didn’t get an answer. You could try and lie, but he already knows anyway. He just wants to hear you say it.
“You know, Harry. You just want to hear me say it.” You murmur, bringing up the chocolaty drink to your lips to distract yourself.
“Sure, maybe I do. I wanna confirm my suspicions.” He proposes, a small shrug of his shoulders. You place the drink back on the coaster, staring at him. Eventually caving.
“It— everyone definitely thought it looked like you were, uh, giving oral.” You rushed out, trying to now act as nonchalant as possible to avoid further questioning.
I didn’t work.
“So everyone including you?” He asked.
“Well… yea.” Your cheeks were pink, and he smiled at your flustered voice.
“Dirty thing.” He chuckled, and you almost breathed a sigh of relief thinking maybe you could move on and pretend as if this never happened, but he continues on.
“Had you a little worked up, did I?”
“May I touch on how unprofessional this conversation is?” You bring up, trying to save yourself. But it’s evident in your voice you hardly mean it. You are admittedly a little curious as to where he’s going with this. Equally, if not more embarrassed than anything, but still curious.
“I suppose you can, yes.” He nods.
“But may I bring up how you undressing me with your eyes yesterday was unprofessional? Because unless I’m insane, you definitely were.” He’s cocky, and overconfident with his accusation.
Not that it can be really labelled as an accusation, given he’s not wrong at all.
“I—“ you swallow, “Okay. Whatever. Point proven.”
He laughs at your surrender, shuffling forward on the chair.
“So you were— that’s the kind of stuff you were thinking about me?” He rests his elbows on his knees, watching you intently.
“You are really trying to get something out of me aren’t you? What do you want to hear me say?” You raise your brows, adrenaline coursing through you.
“Just want you to tell me the truth. Be honest with me, since we’re talking about being professional. I think that’s a good start.” He sounds so gentle yet firm, and your devouring this dominant kind of trait he’s showing you.
“Communication and honesty is very important when it comes to professionalism.”
Pleasure has been simmering in your stomach since he walked through the door, and his persistence is beginning to pay off, since you’re starting to let your guard down.
“So you want me to tell you how wet I got after your little stunt last night? That if I wasn’t your employee, after the show you would have found me in your dressing room bent over on the table.”
“Waiting for you to come in there, all sweaty and ready to strip that teeny fucking vest off, and put your mouth to use.”
He’s got a dusting of red over his own cheeks now, blood rushing to his cock as he realised he cracked you open now. Your dirty words spilling out of your mouth after holding back seemingly since last night.
“That what you would’ve done? Bent yourself over my dressing room table waiting for me like a pretty little post-show gift?”
“Maybe so.” You feed into it, watching as his eyes darken with desire.
He sighs out, standing up promptly, “Alright, darling. I’m gonna offer you something. You don’t have to agree, but if you do we can stop at any time. Okay?”
“What exactly are you offering?” You ask as leans his tall frame down to you, hands bracketed on your hips.
“For me to pick you up, put you on that bed and strip you until I can bury my head between your legs.” He stated, matter of factly.
Your thighs are shaking so hard you’re clenching them together— clit throbbing at the pressure.
You can only look up at him and nod, to which he doesn’t take as an answer.
“Baby, need you to use your words. Tell me what you want.”
“Yes, Harry. Want that please.” You whine, very quickly becoming delusional at his close proximity.
He grunts as he picks you up, his arms firm around your body and he carry’s you the few feet to the bed. His lips hot as they suddenly come in contact with your jaw.
He pushes your legs open with his thigh, making you moan and push your hips forward.
“Needy girl.” He whispers, voice dirty and hot near your ear as he sucks on the skin below it.
His hands cascade down your body, finding the waistband of your sweatpants and tugging it down.
“Please, please touch me.” You’re wild, bucking your hips up. Wanting to get his tongue on you so bad.
He chuckles at your sudden spiral, how quickly you’ve unravelled before him. Truly like a present, all laid out waiting just for him.
He palms his hand over your damp front, “Soaking through already, fuckin’ hell.”
You groan as he rubs a pressured circle on your fabric-covered clit.
“Want to tell me who got you so wet?” He coos, slowly moving his fingers over you as he waits for an answer.
You give it to him shamelessly, “You. Want you so badly.”
He’s over the moon to finally have you like this. Because it became apparent rather quickly the crush he’d developed on you since you were hired. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t fucked his fist at the thought of getting to touch you.
“Oh, you’re being so good for me now. Because I’ve got my hand between your pretty legs I bet.”
You cant even respond as he slides your drenched underwear down away from your tingling core.
He audibly groans at the sight of your bare, glistening pussy. Watching as you squirm under his stare.
“Jesus fuck, Y/N. How long have you been hiding this gorgeous cunt from me?”
“Too long.” You whimper.
His fingers slid through you, and he gathered up your arousal to play with your clit. Relishing the way it slides under his fingertips.
You were clenching around nothing as he gently rolled your clit between calloused fingers. Playing with it until you were a mess. Moaning and grinding up against his fingers. Begging for what he’d promised earlier.
“Your mouth, Harry. Need it. Anywhere.”
“S’that why your little hole is clenching so hard? Like it’s begging for me.” He watched, mesmerised as your hole pulsed around nothing, and leaked more clear arousal.
You look so delicious to him. And he took a moment to appreciate the fact you were about to let him clean up all that arousal pooling at your hole
He sunk down between your legs very slowly. Distracting himself a few times with mouthing over your fabric covered breasts.
Eventually making it there, so he could blow over your clit, letting you squirm at the teasing stimulation. You smelt amazing too, your sweet tangy scent making his mouth water.
He was grabbing at his cock, pushing at it trying to relieve pressure down there as he peppered kisses along your inner thigh.
“Stop teasing, H. Please I— fuck.” You hissed as he bit the seam of skin of your thigh.
“Cant handle it huh? Are you gonna come before I even get my tongue on you.”
“Want to finish around your mouth.” You plead with him. And he shakes his head with a laugh, anticipating your reaction as he leans forward to drag a long stroke through your slit.
Your whole body shakes with a moan. His velvety, hot tongue immediately leaving you a wreck.
“Harryyy…” You cry out, bucking your hips into his face.
“Gonna ruin your cunt, darling.” He murmurs into you, and you know it’s true with the way your hole is clenching.
He sucks your clit into his mouth before placing fast strokes over it. Flicking and rolling it between his tongue and lips.
The sounds of him lapping up your pussy are echoing through the room, further fuelling the fire that’s started in you.
Your whole jaw goes lax as he moves further down, gliding over your hole— pushing his tongue past your entrance.
“Fuck!” You moan, hips jolting, causing his hands to slide up and hold them into place.
He slides it into you as far as he can, nose bumping your clit. Making you realise very quickly that you’re going to finish around his mouth.
He moans into you, again the vibrations makes you writhe in his tight grip. “I- Harry- more!”
It’s making your whole body shake, and he’s pressed so far into you that it’s all you can feel. And it’s obvious that you’re about to come, just with the way your cunt is pulsing around his mouth.
“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck. Harry, please, I’m gonna come!” You felt the burning spark fly through you, hitting you like a truck when his tongue curled and rocked inside you.
He’s humming and pressing himself so close you genuinely think he can’t breathe. And you realise immediately when the rubber band in snapped inside of you.
It gushed through your whole body, making you moan and cry in his grip. He couldn’t even explain the feeling of having you clenching around his tongue. It almost made him finish in his pants.
He lapped up every single drop he could. But he didn’t stop.
Your clit was so sensitive as he came back up to it with the same intensive pace.
You tried to push him off, “be a good girl, baby, give me another one.”
“So sensitive, Harry.” You whined, hand threading into his soft hair.
“Y’can take it.” He states, going back to sucking on your clit, and the outside of your entrance.
It made you a mess. A proper fucking mess.
You legs were being spread wide by the palm of his hands, and you were almost crying at how sensitive your pussy was.
You were always a five-minute-scroll-break kind of girl when it came to masturbation. So this came as a whole shock to your body. And it was so fucking hot from his perspective.
All he could hear was your filthy fucking whines, begging him one minute to stop and the next to go faster. And he was going insane at how sensitive your little hole was.
That was all he could feel. The clenching of your cunt, the absolute shaking mess your body was becoming.
His tongue flicked over your clit, just as you imagined he would after seeing him last night. And it was getting to messy, your arousal absolutely coating his mouth and chin.
“I-“ a deep suck of your clit, “I’m gonna fucking come!”
You writhed the whole way through your orgasm. Fucking into his face like it was a toy, grinding into it so hard your sure he was completely consumed by you.
And as you came down from the high, still shaking, he cleaned up down there again. Too good to waste, was his thought process. ‘You tasted like a dream’ you’re pretty sure you hear him mutter against you at some point.
His thumbs run over the dips of your hips to bring you back down to earth.
“Good girl, Baby. Took my mouth so fucking well.” He presses a final kiss on your clit as he stood up, your hands dragging up his back did.
“Feeling a little better too, i hope.”
“Yes. So good. H.” You panted, still in a bit of a daze.
“Next time,” he peppered a kiss on you shoulder, “tell me when you’re feeling all worked up okay.”
You nodded, hands sliding to rest in his hair.
“Or by all means, lay yourself out in my dressing room so I can make make come like you deserve.” He smiles at your little nod, still so out of it.
“My little gift, hm?” He coos, stroking a gentle hand down your face.
And he knows he’d do this moment a thousand times over with you. Just to see that smile flash over your lips.
———
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norrisreads · 10 months
Text
illicit affairs #CL16 #MS47
PAIRING: charles leclerc x ex-gf reader! mick schumacher x reader!
SUMMARY: he was once the man you’ve always dreamed of, until one day a decision made drunkenly by him made you realised you were never the chosen one
WARNING: angst + cheating, fluff at the end
masterlists
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‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
2018
being in a relationship has it’s ups and downs, not everyday is full of smiles and laughters, some times it’s deadly silence just like the situation right now between you and charles
you were in a relationship with charles leclerc eversince 2016, you’ve seen him won the formula 2 championship, jumping to formula 1, you were there when he went through hard times, there were days you had to put him over yourself and you’ve never once regretted it.
But here you are, in a relationship that’s full of rocky roads. Charles and you met through his younger brother arthur, you were just a year older than Arthur, and the both of you used to hangout at the leclerc’s apartment daily as the both of you were and still has a close friendship. Arthur had given an advice to you in the early stages of dating with his brother, an advice you should’ve listen clearly.
“i’ll pack my things later, and i’m moving out tomorrow charles” the both of you is currently in the kitchen, you sitting down sipping on your warm honey lemon tea and him just munching down on the breakfast you’ve made for him
“i’m sorry, i swear i do not know what came on to me. she just happened to be there, i should have pushed her, cherie” you heard the metal fork cling as it came in contact with the marble counter top, you refused to believe the news that was trending everywhere
Formula One driver Charles Leclerc caught cheating on his fiancé, y/n l/n last night
When you were woken up by Arthur calls, you were confused of course until you clicked on the link that was send to you from Arthur. Ironically last night, you were on the call with him frantically worrying on Charles whereabouts, other than being woken up by Arthur’s morning calls, you were greeted by the sight of Charles sprawled out on the sofa in the living room.
All the times you were asking for signs if he was made for you, and even though the news did broke your heart, it showed the truth to you and made you realise that you wouldn’t want to spend your precious moments crying and fixing a relationship that is probably isn’t even worth it anymore.
“Sorry doesn’t fix the heartache i woke up to this morning, Charles. If this relationship isn’t worth the fight for you, you could have ask for a break and not cheat on me with someone else. That is so low of you, you knew how cheating affects me, you promised you will never do what he did and here you are proving me wrong”
“i know mon cherie, i am aware and i am so sorry. all i can do right now is to apologise to you, i am so sorry. i love you, i really do. you’ll always be the person my heart beats for cherie, please listen to me” you could hear Charles footsteps approaching you
“sometimes i wish you are able to see how much i sacrifice myself for you, when you were devastated from losing races, i would drop every single thing i was doing and run to you, calm you down.” you could feel tears running down your cheeks, reminiscing the memories the both of you have made together, from bad memories to good memories
“i supported you in every races no matter how exhausted i was, i would pray everyday that you wouldn’t crash and hurt yourself or blame yourself. I had to turn down job offers because i know that i am your number one support system, and i’ll always have to be there” his hand reached yours and tightly gripping it not letting you go
“but I’m exhausted Charles, I’m exhausted that i am always the one putting so much more effort in the relationship, i know you’re fighting for your dreams but what about mine? You’ve never asked about it, i know so much of you yet you know so little of me. I’m sorry Charles, if this happened a year ago, i would have accepted you back in my life but i’m not her anymore.” you let go of his hand, walking to the sink of the shared kitchen and washed the mug
Charles of course had nothing to say because he knew how badly he has been treating you, especially when whatever you’ve spilled your hearts out were accurate, he knew too little of you.
“where are you going to stay, will you be at Arthur’s ?”
“i will crash over at Arthur’s until i found a place, you shouldn’t be concerned where i am staying, be more concerned with Arthur, he’s fuming Charles. He’s your brother, fix the relationship”
with that, you walked to the shared room and started packing your items while Charles left the house to give you space.
what Charles doesn’t know is that you had been blessed with a gift, but for now that is just for you to know.
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2021
Just 2 and a half years ago, on the 14th of February 2019, your baby girl was born into the world. Of course, Arthur, Pascale and Lorenzo knew about the pregnancy and promised to keep it a secret from him.
When you left the house, you were 2 weeks pregnant, you managed to settle in to an apartment nearby Arthur’s apartment due to safety reasons. You were glad that you’ve rarely bumped into Charles, because as of now you’re unsure if you would wanna let Charles know of the child that the both of you shared.
Pascale would constantly come over to provide assistance and you were glad she was there for you even when you aren’t apart of the family anymore.
Just a year after you’ve left, Charles had gotten in-to a relationship, Arthur would always talk to you about how she wasn’t you and it’ll end with you lecturing him on how he should’ve been happy for his brother instead of hating his relationship.
“she’s not you, y/n. she’s just so different” Arthur shouted across the living room while entertaining your daughter, Valentiné Aurore Hervé Leclerc.
Your lovely 2 and a half years old babygirl, Valentiné Aurore Hervé Leclerc, is the greatest gift to you, she was your strength and the reason you are still in this world.
Of course, you did struggled being a single parent but the support you’ve received from your family, friends and his family was never-ending.
“don’t say that thur, i’m sure she’s great and just shy. he’s happy, let him be thur” you lightly hit the back of Arthur’s head
“look baby val, your mum just hit me on the head” all val did was laughed and continued playing with the toys Enzo had gifted, with the exact same eye-smile Charles had
“would you ever let Charles know about val?” Arthur asked, taking a seat beside you
“of course, i wouldn’t mind because val deserves to know his dad too” you smiled while looking at your baby-girl playing
“though i prefer Charles to just be an uncle, rather than a dad. Furthermore she loves the existence of him, sooner or later she’s gonna call him papa”
“I’m glad you’ve found someone that truly treasure you, he’s a great person though you have to seriously stop dating drivers.”
the both of you laughed, and as you were speaking about him, you heard the keypad of your house door being key-ed in and just a minute later the door of your house opened.
“miiiiiicckkkkkkkkyyy” val dropped her toys and ran to mick.
mick placed his items on the counter top and picked up val, “how’s my favourite girl doing?” while giving kisses to your baby-girl
mick walked towards you and Arthur, “ thanks thur for your help, you’ve been nothing but nice to us”
“it’s alright mick, though i’ll prefer you to be away so val will start loving me more” arthur joked knowing before mick came into val’s life, arthur was her favourite uncle
“hello baby, I dropped by the restaurant and bought the soup that you were craving for, i hope it’s still hot though” Mick gave you a forehead kiss while holding val on the other arm of his.
Thur picked up his bags and said his goodbyes.
you are currently dating Mick Schumacher, the relationship has been since end 2020, you’ve met him when you were working at your cafe and happened to serve him and he happened to take a liking towards you. Mick knew of Charles and you history and have assured you that he does not really mind and he truly appreciate both val and you.
When val turned two years old, mick had brought her to one of val’s biggest dream place ever as all other kids calls it, Disneyland and spend the whole day with her and you’ve could see the look on val’s face that only lights up when she’s around Mick and realised that this was the man that you would want to build up your future with.
Charles knew about your relationship, with the presence of you you standing beside mick supporting him during the races.
You weren’t always there for the races but since it was mick’s first few races, you wanted it to be special for the both of you. Val was sleeping over at your best friend for the day, inviting her would’ve caused a huge mess between the both of you especially with the first glance of your daughter, anyone could tell she is related to Charles Leclerc.
Of course it was a surprise to him, leading him to text Arthur right after the both of you had a 5 minute conversation together.
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2022 MONACO GP
“okay baby, stay by mama and don’t run anywhere else okay? papa is gonna be busy for a while and you’ll able to see him on this track” you were instructing val to not run away, val has turned out to be a daddy’s girl ever-since Mick came in-to her life, being away from Mick for a few days was torture to her(us), face-timing was the usuals for the three of us.
of course, hiding val on the way to the paddock was hard enough, you had to ask gina’s help which she did assist in and came by earlier than you and Mick in order to avoid the assumptions.
“but will papa see me here? will he wave at me and you, mama?”
you’re now carrying your daughter on your other arm, while she’s fidgeting with the lanyards around her neck.
“i’m not sure baby, papa’s car pass by super fast val. they’re faster than the cars we have at home,baby”
val nods her head and snuggled her head onto your neck, signalling that she was sleepy.
“baby, you sleepy? wanna head back to the room?” she agreed as she had spend her afternoon nap being awake following Mick around everywhere.
On the way to the haas paddock club, you were on your phone, single handedly texting gina if she could bring out the blankets that was in your bag as she was still at the club waiting for Mick’s team meeting to be done.
until you bumped on-to someone, and that someone just happened to be him.
just when you’re holding your daughter, what a great timing
“mama, why stop?” Val’s rubbing her eyes wondering and snuggling back on to your neck
“a moment baby, just get back to sleeping okay?” rubbing val’s back soothing her down to get her back to sleeping.
Charles was shocked yet confused on why you’re holding a child and the said child was calling you mama. Charles knew your relationship with Mick had just been ongoing for 3 years and he knew that the little girl that you were carrying is more than 3 years old, but what he didn’t know was that the little girl on your arm was his own daughter that he had no clue off.
“y/n, you’ve never told me you had a daughter?” charles stopped in his tracks and you could see behind him was arthur and lorenzo, with a shocked face.
“oh look charles, you’re late to your team meeting. Let’s go carlos is probably finding for you” enzo distracting him, but it was no help because he was still there staring at you and your daughter.
at this point you were looking at arthur for help but from the facial expression on arthur’s you knew he had zero plans to back you up.
“yeah haha it’s something i’ve kept private” you tried to walk away but he stopped you and take a look at val’s lanyard that was around her neck.
and one thing you didn’t realise was mick had given the staffs val’s full name to print out on her paddock pass, and that is when charles realised he has a daughter.
“valentiné aurore herve leclerc?”
oh yeah we are so fuck, by we it’s lorenzo, arthur and i.
you were looking at arthur and lorenzo with wide eyes.
“the both of you are aware of this?” charles turned to both of them and questioned the both of his brothers with disbelief
“it’s not their fault, i made them promised to not tell anyone”
“why didn’t you tell me? i am her father” at this point you could see people were curious on the conversation that was happening, because why would mick’s current girlfriend be seen having an intense conversation with Charles Leclerc?
“let’s talk later, she needs her nap. i’ll come over to arthur’s apartment and explain everything ” and charles knew that tone of your voice, the one where you would always use when you’re anxious or nervous and charles agreed on meeting you at arthur’s apartment
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ARTHUR’S APARTMENT
Mick knew what had happened when you bumped you onto Charles, Mick wanted to accompany the both of you to Arthur’s apartment and be there for you while you explained things to Charles, and of course you agreed.
You knocked Arthur’s door, and you were greeted by pascale.
“i’m sorry darling, I tried but he was too persistent” she apologised to you, holding your hand giving you comfort
“it’s fine, it’s time i guess” you smiled at her
when you’ve reached Arthur’s living room you could feel the tension between the three brothers, you took a seat beside Arthur and Val automatically went to Arthur’s Lap.
Mick sat beside you, rubbing your back, calming down your nerves.
“val baby, come to papa. don’t bother uncle thur” mick called out to your daughter which she listened and walked over to Mick’s lap and mick carried her to arthur’s guest room which pascale followed behind.
Charles cleared his throat, “tell me from the start”
“when we broke off and i left, i found out I was 2 weeks pregnant”
“and you didn’t think of telling me?”
“it was hard Charles, i didn’t want you to stay with me just because i was carrying your daughter”
“continue” charles head in his hand, stressing over this situation
“i kept it of course as you can see, but please don’t blame it on lorenzo and arthur. i’ve made them swore they wouldn’t tell you, i didn’t wanna ruin your career. I was gonna tell you, just not now. I was thinking of telling you when val’s gonna understand the situation more. Mick knows about us and he was there for me for everything”
“I could’ve helped you, y/n. as a friend I could’ve helped you. she has my dna, she’s mine, i deserve to be in her life too, does she know?”
“she knows her father’s absence in her life, but she doesn’t know it’s you. we’ve never really talked about it”
“why the name? why did you used my last name, if you didn’t want me to be in her life y/n?”
“She’s apart of you, of course i had to include that and she looks exactly like you, no matter how much i refuse to believe’s she from you i had to accept it”
Charles walked over and sat beside you and held your hand.
“please let me be in her life. not as a father but as someone she deserves to know. i don’t mind Mick being her father, he deserves that title, but just let me be in my daughter’s life”
you agreed to charles, because as much as you disliked Charles, you didn’t want your daughter to grow up not knowing how does her biological dad looks like and starts questioning if she ever did something wrong.
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2023
Charles took the time to get to know val more, Mick and you would allow Charles over to let him have his own time with his daughter or they would sometimes have a day to their own.
Val knew who charles were but wasn’t really keen in calling him papa, as for the past few years Mick was more of a father figure to her rather than Charles.
As much as Charles was disappointed, he understood where she was coming from but he was glad Val had accepted him in her life not as a father but as some she would like to keep close contact with.
As for you, you’ve still kept the news of you having a child private, though there were rumours speculating around which you didn’t really pay attention to but you felt that it wasn’t a need for you to go public that you had a love child with their favourite driver.
Mick’s gotten signed to Mercedes and since he was a reserve driver, he would spend most of the time at the paddock with val and val has never been much more happier being close to her papa.
She would sometimes be in the Ferrari’s building or Mercedes’. Of course other than P, and the other driver’s children’s, val is currently the favourite especially amongst Charles and Mick’s circles of friends.
You were glad that the heavy weight on your shoulders was lifted off. Though, it took you a while to let Charles know about val, it’s all sorted out and you’re glad.
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—✩࿐ end note: thanks for reading! wanted to end it off more angst less fluff but dad! mick just warms my heart, i’m still finding for good ig post templates or twitter templates! other than that, i hope you enjoyed reading! ♥️
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reystenius-01 · 11 days
Text
Little Lilo
in which you come home with a feline friend
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Alexia had gotten home from training a couple of hours ago now, and she was beginning to miss your presence. Since you had a day-off, and today was a session mainly for the midfielders, you had breakfast with your parents, who were visiting Spain for a while. When Alexia had met your parents for the first time, at the World Cup final in Australia, your Barcelona-loving father had practically swooned himself. Your patriotic English mother took a little more convincing, but Alexia managed to win her over through brunch (and a Jenni Hermoso jersey, which your mother immediately hung up in the spare room beside a Mary Earps shirt).
She was heating up one of the dishes on her meal plan when Nala started barking at the door. She wasn't expecting anyone else to be coming over, especially not with the racket Nala was making. With a sigh, she turned off the stove and made her way to the door, wondering who could possibly be causing such a commotion.
Opening the door, Alexia's eyes widened in surprise when she saw her girlfriend standing there, holding a tiny kitten in her arms. But what caught her off guard even more was the sight of yourself – your hair tousled and dishevelled, dirt smudges on your cheeks, and grass stains on your clothes.
“Mi amor, what on earth happened to you?” Alexia exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting up in confusion.
Your eyes lit up with excitement as you held out the kitten towards Alexia. “Look what I found!” you exclaimed, your voice filled with glee. “Isn't she just the cutest thing you've ever seen?”
Alexia couldn't help but chuckle at your enthusiasm, reaching out to gently stroke the kitten's fur. “She's adorable,” she agreed, her heart melting at the sight of the tiny creature. But then she glanced back at you, a puzzled frown forming on her face. “But seriously, what happened to you? You look like you've been rolling around in the dirt.”
Your cheeks flushed slightly as you rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly, taking off your shoes and nearly falling over. “Well, you see, I found this little one wandering around near the park,” you explained. “And, uh, she was in a bit of a pickle, so I couldn't just leave her there. I might have gotten a little carried away trying to catch her.”
“A p-pickle?” Alexia tilted her head in confusion at the terminology.
“She was… in trouble,” you adjusted with a smile, so convincing that Alexia almost didn’t notice your tell. You were avoiding eye contact.
“Mi vida…” Alexia crossed her arms, fixing you with a stern look. 
You gulped, before sighing and caving in, “I might have gotten a little carried away playing with him, but it was worth it.”
Nala, who had been watching the exchange with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, let out a low growl from her spot by the door, clearly not impressed by the new addition to the household.
Now, Nala was equally your child as she was Alexia’s, but you’d have to pull off some insane sweet-talking in order to get your girlfriend to let you keep the furry feline you were holding in your arms.
You sighed, casting a pleading look in Alexia's direction. “Please, mi amor, can we keep him?” Your voice was tinged with hope, Alexia’s heart nearly bursting as you pulled out the best puppy-eyes you could muster.
“You and your soft spot for animals,” Alexia teased gently, reaching out to scratch Nala behind the ears to reassure her.
Your cheeks flushed slightly at the teasing, but you couldn't hide the fond smile that tugged at your lips. “I can't help it,” you admitted sheepishly, pressing a kiss to the top of the kitten's head. “They just... they need someone to look out for them, you know?”
Alexia's heart swelled with affection as she watched you cradle the kitten in your arms, her eyes shining with genuine love and compassion. “Yeah, I know, amor,” she murmured softly, feeling a rush of warmth flood through her at the sight of her girlfriend's kindness.
Nala's growling had subsided, replaced by a cautious curiosity as she sniffed at the kitten, her tail wagging tentatively. It seemed she was slowly warming up to the idea of having a new furry friend around the apartment.
With a soft sigh, Alexia nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Alright, we can keep him,” she relented, her voice filled with affection. “But this is the last one, okay? And you’re on litter box duty. We’ve got enough on our plate with Nala, dios mio.”
An almost comical expression overtook your face. Your baffled expression morphed into one of mock offense as you raised an eyebrow at Alexia. “Oh, so now it's ‘we,’ huh?” you teased, feigning indignation. “Nala sneezes once and you’re on your feet like I just put on a Madrid jersey.”
Alexia chuckled, shaking her head. “Hey, don't be dramatic,” she teased back, nudging you playfully with her elbow. “Besides, Madrid jerseys are an abomination in this household. You know that.”
Your mock offense melted into a grin, unable to hold the act for long under Alexia's playful teasing. “Alright, fair point,” you conceded with a laugh, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Alexia's cheek. “But seriously, thanks for letting us keep him. I promise I'll take care of everything – litter duty and all.”
Alexia smiled at her, reaching out to gently ruffle the kitten's fur. “Hey, I'm all for expanding our little family,” she teased, shooting you a playful smirk. “Besides, Nala could use a buddy to keep her company when we're both busy with training and games.”
Your lips twitched into a playful grin as you shook your head in mock disbelief. “Well, well, well, look at you, embracing your inner cat lady,” you teased, leaning in to press a teasing kiss to Alexia's lips. “I never thought I'd see the day.”
Rolling her eyes, Alexia swatted playfully at your shoulder. “Oh, hush,” she retorted, though the fondness in her tone was evident. “You know you love it when I surprise you.” She leaned in closer, her voice turning softer. “And besides, anything to make you happy, mi cielo.”
You pulled a face, dodging Alexia’s hand that was about to smack your ass as you turned towards the bathroom to give the little guy a bath. “Amor, I swear you suck.”
“Last I remember, bebita, you were doing most of that last night.”
“Alexia Putellas Segura, you are so lucky I am holding Little Lilo right now,” you turned around slowly, a tight smile on your face.
“Little Lilo?”
“IT’S A CUTE NAME!”
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jinjeriffic · 2 months
Text
DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 3
Part 2
Tim reached up to rub at his temples and groaned. This was getting him nowhere. Normally he enjoyed going down the research rabbit-hole but this was ridiculous! Paranormal sciences were a bad joke. Most of it was conjecture, hearsay and unprovable theories with just enough scientific sounding jargon peppered in to confuse a layperson. Peer-review was practically non-existent, not to mention a proper scientific method. Francis Bacon would be rolling in his grave!
The slight hiss of the elevator doors opening interrupted his thoughts.
“Hey Replacement, you missed dinner!” Jason called, sauntering over with a loaded plate in hand. He set down a sandwich next to Tim’s elbow. “Alfie says he’s cutting off your coffee supply until you get some damn sleep. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna start prepping the knock-out gas soon!” he quipped, leaning his hip against the Batcomputer’s console. “Research on the League giving you trouble?”
“I wish.” Tim sighed, reaching for the sandwich, “The Assassins have actually been pretty quiet recently. I found some leads on suspicious political donations in Italy, but nothing I can tie to them directly. Talia’s in Paris as far as I can tell, working at an investment firm for God knows what reason. Probably money laundering related. And the ones holed up in Nanda Parbat have been quiet as murderous little church mice.”
“Ra’s isn’t up to anything? Colour me shocked.” Jason drawled sardonically, “You sure he’s not cooking up a new batch of demon spawn in that mountain of his?”
Tim shook his head. “You know Bruce destroyed his cloning labs after the last… incident. And I’ve found no records of the League procuring the necessary materials or equipment to restart production.” he wrinkled his nose, “Of course it’s possible that they used a shell company we haven’t come across yet, but I believe the odds are pretty low.”
“So what’s got your panties in a bunch then?”
Tim’s mouth twisted in a frown. “Ghosts.”
“Ah.”
Jason stared off into space and Tim took a bite of his sandwich. Egg-salad, score! The Cave was silent for a while, only disturbed by the noise of the actual bats heading out for their nightly hunt.
“I can’t tell you for sure if ghosts are real or not. I don’t remember anything from when I was… dead.” Jason said haltingly, and Tim stilled. “But we’ve seen people come back under pretty weird circumstances. So why not ghosts?” Jason shrugged.
Tim chewed and swallowed before replying. “Because it’s one thing for the physical body to be restored, but some kind of nebulous ‘spirit’ lingering? Why don’t we see ghosts all the time then? Why don’t people come back? Why not…” Tim broke off.
“Your Dad?”
Tim nodded and dropped the remains of the sandwich back on the plate. It suddenly looked as appetising as cardboard.
“I don’t know, birdie. We still don’t know why I came back.” Jason snorted “Maybe the universe just has a sick sense of humour.”
Tim’s lips curled up in a mirthless smile. “Maybe the universe missed your terrible puns. Some of those still haunt me.”
Jason barked out a surprised laugh. “That was terrible!”
“The universe clearly made a grave mistake.”
“Stop it, I can feel my brain cells dying!” Jason groaned and gave Tim a light punch to the shoulder.
“Well we can’t have that, you have so few already!” Tim snarked, then quickly leaned to the side to evade Jason’s attempted noogie. Jason huffed and stepped back, crossing his arms.
“All right mister teenage genius. What have you dug up about ghosts then?”
Tim rolled his eyes. “There’s obviously tons of folklore from all over the world. Pretty much every mythology has stories about the spirits or souls of the dead returning to haunt the living. But if there’s a scientific basis to all this then it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Even the supposed leaders in the field are hopelessly biased.” He pulled up some documents on the screen. “Take these for example. The Doctors Fenton are supposed experts in the field of ‘Ecto-Biology’ as they call it, but their research papers would never fly with a proper scientific journal. A lot of it comes across as blatantly xenophobic towards the entities they are supposedly studying and their research methods seem geared towards confirming what they view as foregone conclusions. And most of their peers operate on the same track.”
Jason hummed thoughtfully as he skimmed one of the articles in question. “Do you think there’s anything to this, or is it all just a hoax?”
Tim snorted. “If there is, they haven’t offered any conclusive proof. Though they certainly seem to have made it work for them. The Fentons have a series of patents for weapons and defenses against these supposed ‘ecto-entities’ and it looks like there’s plenty of people gullible enough to buy them. I haven’t taken a closer look at their products yet, but a lot of it looks like something out of a pulp sci-fi movie.” He pulled up the image of what looked like a bazooka with green glowing parts. Jason whistled.
“So, con artists or mad scientists?”
“Could be both. Their financial records are all over the place and they’ve had some large transactions with what I’m pretty sure are shell companies in recent years. They live and operate out of a small city in Illinois.” Tim said, pulling up the relevant documents on screen.
“Amity Park?” Jason read aloud.
“Supposedly it’s ‘The Most Haunted City in America’. Seems on brand, doesn’t it?”
“It probably helps them stay in business. It looks like they have kids?” Jason pointed at the tax returns. Tim typed some search queries into the system.
“Two. One in high school, one just started her first semester at Metropolis University. With a full scholarship to boot.” He spent a few more minutes hacking into the university’s systems. “Here we go, Jasmine Fenton. Looks like she’s going for a psychology degree. And… hm…” Tim trailed off. Jason quickly realised what had caught his attention.
“‘The Damaging Effects of Envy Towards Metahumans? That’s a hell of a topic for a freshman-year essay.” Jason remarked.
“Yes. I wonder…” Tim drummed his fingers on the keyboard. “She might have some insight into her parents’ research.”
“And at a cursory glance, she didn’t drink whatever Kool-Aid her parents were serving.” Jason finished for him. “You wanna go pump her for information?”
“I might as well. If nothing else, maybe we can shut down a couple of mad scientists before they become a problem.” Tim stood up and stretched. “Time for a field trip!”
Part 4
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loupy-mongoose · 1 month
Text
Lil speech guide: Randy's speech Jamie's speech (Pokespeak will be in parentheses.)
It got pretty long, so under the Bar it goes!
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Jamie, the Gardevoir, and the three Lindens stood locked in tense silence. Randy fought to string together an explanation that wouldn't give away too much, while also trying to gauge Akoya's stance.
Jamie was the first to break the silence. Her expression hardened, her eyes displaying a sharp fury. Well? I'm not letting you a step further until I know it's not a threat.
The pointed stick in her hand lowered to point toward the family, and her authoritative tone chilled Randy. She meant business, which didn't help ease the man's racing mind.
Akoya answered before Randy could, her voice a bit too defensive in his opinion. It's none of your business what's in our bag. It's stuff for travel! What's wrong with that?!
Jamie clearly didn't believe her for a second. Her icy eyes bore into the white haired visitor. I won't tolerate a threat at my home. Tell me what's in there, or you WILL leave. Her eyes flashed ominously. Or worse.
Feeling a wave of protectiveness, Randy shuffled to stand in front of Akoya and Lavender. He hoped they couldn't feel the surge of utter dread that coursed through his body.
Listen, Jamie. He tried to keep his voice low, level, and non-threatening. What's in that bag is very precious to us, and we can't show you out here where others might see it. If we can go somewhere private, then maybe we can work something out.
He felt the sharp jab of Akoya's disapproval from behind him. Between her and the protesting red-head in front of them, he felt his resolve being wringed out of him.
Jamie stood still, her glare unwavering. After a moment, her head lifted slightly as she addressed their Pokemon company in an strong bark. (Darren, Sheila, Percy, please hide us with your wings.)
Percy and Darren gave startled, bewildered looks, while Sheila tilted her head and chuffed questioningly. But they did as she asked, reaching out to their widest wingspans, touching tip-to-tip with each other.
The Lindens hesitantly shuffled to adjust their positions as their space shrank.
There. Jamie eyed them all closely You wanted somewhere private; this is it. If you still won't show me, you'll have to leave.
Randy and Akoya glanced nervously at each other.
What could be done?
They came to a silent agreement.
Akoya turned back to Jamie, giving her a glare that verged on desperation. We're showing you because you forced our hand. NOT because we trust you. If you try anything...
To Randy's surprise, he caught a falter in Jamie's resolve, and something changed. A new expression slipped into her demeanor, if only barely.
Curiosity.
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The look on Jamie's face turned from shock to determination.
Swiftly she addressed her three winged Pokemon. (Spread the word; we need to find a little pink Mew with blue accents. It is to be brought back to these three safely and secretly.)
The three beasts nodded in sincerity and took off.
Persim poked his head of of the bag, his face etched in horror, while Momo was shrieking. Stay in there for now, Perzi. Randy's voice was shaky, but reassuring. We'll handle it. Could you please try to calm Momo down?
The orange feline nodded uncertainly and ducked back into the bag. Randy saw a green bubble form in it as he zipped it shut. Momo's screams went quiet, but he knew it was just contained by the bubble. Poor Persim...
The red-headed girl looked solemnly at the devastated family, her expression softer than any of them had seen from her yet. I'm truly sorry about that... I promise you all, this is the best place for a Pokemon like them to be lost at. There will be lots of good Pokemon looking for them, and any humans will be curious at worst. It might scare them, but nobody will hurt them.
I would've done things differently if I'd known they were in there...
Akoya gave up looking nearby for her son and took a breath. She turned to Jamie, for once without venom. Listen, Jamie, with all due respect, we'll be able to find him easier than your little... network, or whatever you have here. He's gotta be terrified! He might just keep teleporting away if strangers find him, human or Pokemon...
Jamie folded her arms with a hesitant nod. You're free to search too, if you think so. Maybe you're right, and he'll only show for you guys. But if anyone spots him, I'll hear of it, so I'd best stick with you.
Akoya gave an uncertain look and opened her mouth to speak. But, feeling her about to protest, Randy interrupted her. We can talk later. Let's go find Midas.
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~~~~~~
PREVIOUS NEXT
New skill acquired~
And just for the fun of it, I'm uh... gonna share some of the (very) rough sketches I did for this part, because I find them hilarious.
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Luna (my cat) randomly decided to leave the comfort of her cat tower to come lay on my arm. The trouble was, it was my drawing arm. So I made due. XD
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gunnerfc · 2 months
Text
(Un)Stuck | Alexia Putellas x Barça!Reader (18+)
Summary: Part 2 to Stuck found here -> “Stuck Part 1”
Warnings: bottom reader, top alexia, strap on use (r receiving), a tad bit of oral (r receiving), nipple sucking, degrading, hate fucking i guess lol, a little angsty at the end
WC: 1.5K
AN: could not for the life of me come up with a better title 😵‍💫
You let Alexia guide you down the familiar hallway towards her door at the end, thoughts clouded with thoughts of the midfielder. When you reached her door, you watched your captain struggle to unlock her door, clearly affected by your presence. You smirked to yourself, enjoying that despite breaking up, you could still drive Alexia crazy.
After what felt like forever, the blonde threw her door open, pulling you through the threshold with her. Alexia kicked the door closed with her foot and you were roughly pushed against the surface. Alexia’s lips found the side of your neck, leaving deep kisses along your skin that would later turn into bruise-like marks. Her hands fell to your waist, keeping you pressed against the front door while yours tangled in her blonde hair.
“You’re so stubborn,” the midfielder huffed as she pulled away from your neck. Her tone might have sounded annoyed but you knew she was enjoying it.
“You used to like that about me,” you smirk up at the captain, your hips rolling against her despite her tight grip.
Alexia rolled her eyes at your words before her lips met yours in a deep kiss. Your mouth moved against hers as your hips continued moving. Alexia’s lips against yours drew a low moan from the both of you, the familiar feeling of your ex-girlfriend was not something you could easily forget.
With your lips still locked, you let Alexia blindly guide you to her bedroom, a room that you used to spend countless nights in before the abrupt breakup. You felt the end of the large bed against the back of your legs before you pushed down, Alexia’s lips never leaving yours. Laying on the bed made it easier to grind against the midfield as you searched for some sort of release. 
Alexia pulled back, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. Your ex-girlfriend quickly rid the two of you of your clothes, her eyes scanning up and down your naked form. Seeing you like this wasn't new to her, but something about you being angry at her made the experience hotter than any other time you had sex.
Her lips found your neck again, leaving small nips on your skin as you threw your head back against the pillows. Your breathing was heavy as her hands roamed your body, ignoring every part of you that needed to feel her. The lack of relief was starting to affect you as low whines fell from your lips.
“Ale- please,” you moaned, your voice starting to become hoarse. “Please fuck me,” you whined, needing the blonde to finally give in and touch you where you needed her.
Alexia pulled away from you completely before standing up to get something from her dresser. You whined loudly at the loss of complete contact, your eyes following the blonde the entire time. You watched as she pulled your favorite strap on from a bottom drawer, your eyes rolling back slightly knowing just how well Alexia can use the toy. 
Alexia quickly fastened the toy around her hips before rejoining you on the bed. The blonde gave you a quick kiss before her lips trailed down your neck toward your chest. She took one of your hardened nipples in her mouth, lightly sucking on the bud. A loud moan fell from your mouth at the feeling, thrilled that she was finally doing something. Alexia took her time before she pulled back and did the same with your other nipple.
You moved one of your hands to tangle in her hair, pressing her close to your body. After giving your chest enough attention, Alexia left harsh kisses down your torso every so often sucking softly to leave a mark. When she finally reached your dripping core, the blonde blew lightly against you causing your back to arch at the cool sensation. 
Alexia smirked at the sight of you dripping when she’d barely done anything. She tilted her head down slightly to slowly lick up towards your clit before pulling back all the way and sat up on her knees. The feeling of her tongue against you had your eyes tightly shut as your hips rolled against nothing. 
“You look so desperate, amor,” the blonde smirked, a sarcastic laugh echoing off the walls. 
If you weren’t desperate for her to fuck you, you would have told her to go fuck herself but you needed her. Ever since the breakup, no one you hooked up with could make you cum the way Alexia could. But you weren’t going to tell her that, you were still pissed that she wouldn’t tell you why she broke up with you in the first place.
You couldn't form an actual response other than desperate moans, which didn’t help your case. Alexia laughed to herself at your state as she ran the tip of the strap-on through your soaked folds. Alexia pushed the strap-on further into you, not letting you readjust to the size as her hands moved your legs to wrap around her waist. Her hands held tightly on your hips as she started slowly thrusting into you as you rolled your hips to meet her thrusts. 
One of your hands gripped tightly to cover underneath you while the other gripped one of Alexia’s wrists. Your head was thrown back as loud moans escaped your lips. “Faster, Ale, p-please,” was as you could get out in between moans, hoping the blonde would listen. 
Alexia took pity on you, she knew you well enough to know exactly what you needed. The captain’s hips sped up as she fucked you, the sound of her skin hitting yours joined your moans in filling the room. Your volume grew as her hips angled slightly to thrust deeper, bringing you closer to the edge with each thrust.
The midfielder knew the telltale signs of when you were about to cum but she wasn't ready to let you just yet. Her hips slowed slightly as she removed one of your legs from her waist to push it toward your chest, stretching you out in the process. A loud moan fell from your lips as she kept thrusting into you with this new angle, hitting that familiar spot. 
Alexia could feel how wet she was herself at the sight of you, loving how well you took her. One of her favorite sights was watching you as you cum around her strap and she was determined to give you one of the best orgasms ever.
With the new position, Alexia’s hips sped back up as she thrusts hard into you. The bed rocked back and forth, the headboard hitting the wall in a rhythm. Not that you truly cared at the moment, but you were glad Alexia’s apartment was the last one on the hall and that there was no one on the other side. The sound of your moans mixed with the sounds of Alexia fucking you spurred her on, her hips snapping against yours harshly. 
In a broken voice, you begged her to let you cum as you felt the coil in your lower stomach tighten. Alexia could feel herself close to her release as she stared down at you, watching as your back arched and your hips moved in time with hers.
“Ven por mí (come for me),” Alexia groaned, as her hips faltered slightly. That was all you needed before you let go, cumming all over her strap. Alexia didn’t slow her hips at all as you came, needing to find her own release. You whined at the overstimulation but Alexia came soon after you. 
The blonde’s hips came to a stop before slowly pulling out of you. A small groan escaped your lips at the loss of contact and Alexia quickly stripped herself of the toy before tossing it somewhere to be picked up later. She left light kisses all over your body as you both calmed down before moving off of you and to one side of the bed. 
You took a minute to collect your thoughts, your original anger still present in your mind. You sat up quickly and moved to gather your clothes. “Where are you going,” confusion laced Alexia’s words as you watched you get dressed. 
“Away from you,” You snapped, the pleasure and enjoyment you felt mere minutes ago gone as you finished getting dressed. You finally made eye contact with Alexia and you could see the hurt look in her eye but considering she refused to tell you why she broke up with you and has given you the cold shoulder ever since, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 
“Y/n/n…” Alexia started but you cut her off. “No, you don’t get to call me that anymore,” you felt your heart breaking all over again, this moment felt like the true end to your relationship with the Barcelona captain, and that hurt. 
You didn’t give her a chance to respond before you made your way out of her apartment and down the hall toward the elevator. You felt your eyes water as you waited for the elevator to reach the floor you were on, fighting with yourself to not go back to Alexia. If she wanted to explain herself to fix things with you, she was going to have to make the first move. You were done with trying to get her to tell you the truth.
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nouearth · 9 months
Text
a business trip.
john wick x male reader.
warnings: smut, alcohol, blowjob (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), dirty talk, rough!sex, breeding, unprotected!sex, top!johnwick, bottom!reader.
request.
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the soft tune of jazz—a sonata that you were never particularly fond of—became comforting in your solitude. though a piano was absent, hidden stereos were more than adequate as you gathered the ambiance would’ve been more or less the same if a pianist had performed. 
in the sleepy hours of the continental hotel, patrons of the lounge kept their conversations low, indescribable murmurs to your ears as you sipped on your drink—warm and smooth down your throat. 
the time on your phone flicked to midnight, and day two commenced. you came on a business trip. if you could, you would’ve rejected the offer to come to new york, especially when it took away time from your dog. but the rascal was spoiled, and that unfortunately meant you had to step out of your home office once in a while—all to keep her spoiled. 
but who ever said you couldn’t have a little fun during your trip?
the seats at the bar were unoccupied except for yours. clients preferred sitting in something that supported their back, you presumed, but that didn’t stop a gentleman from taking a seat next to you.
oh, wow. maybe the lady was right… this cologne is a dick magnet.
unbeknownst to you, his favorite seat was occupied and he was petty—though only slight, because a strong drink to incinerate his stress was his main priority. 
“bourbon whiskey,” the gentleman glanced at you, dried blood and cuts lanterned under the muted lights, but his black hair succeeded in shadowing. “please.”
the man didn’t seem phased by the injuries—a nonchalant attitude he maintained—but you were nonetheless surprised. speechless as no one, not even the bartender, seemed to have minded his wounds, the blood stained on his dress shirt, and the purple bruise beating on his cheekbone.
it was… strange.
“uh...” you cleared your throat, directing the sound towards the man to get his attention. he looked, clearly want to be left alone as he kept his gaze front. “sorry, i just… uh… should i be worried about that?”
though he didn’t seem to recognize you, the stranger was hesitant to answer, taking more than a few beats before speaking, low and gritty. “no, just… got robbed.”
“oh, shit, seriously?” you reached for you phone and turned the screen on. ”then, I think we should call-“ before you could take the process to another step, a gentle grasp latched around your wrist, stopping you.
“that’s very kind of you, but i’m fine.” he finally turned to you, a reassuring gaze pierced to your worry before letting go and looking front again.
handsome, even when he’s all beat up. focus, that was not the priority right now.
“dude, you’re bleeding.” remnants of warmth escaped your wrist, but his calloused fingers remained in memory. “you could have a concussion or something.”
“maybe,” the man took a sip of his drink, a simper to his face when it was concluded that you were evidently not from his world. “seemed fine as i walked the way here though.”
“jesus,” you couldn’t pick apart between fact or fiction, especially from a stranger, but he had no reason to lie. you took another sip, watching him and accepting his truth. “did you manage to get a hit on them, at least?”
you missed it, but the man glanced down at the red stain on his dress shirt, small and ruby-ed against the white fabric before taking a sip again. “something like that.”
“hm... i guess i know who to call for a bodyguard when i’m in the city again, then.” the ice between the two of you was slowly melting, puddles of it spreading when you two shared a chuckle. “(m/n), by the way.”
“john.” you can put a name to his face now, and it was fitting. mysterious and aloof, but never intimidating because there was a warmth inside of him that just needed a reason to come out. “never seen you here before, first time?”
“kind of?” by now, the drink has caught up to you and you felt a little more confident, turning your body towards him. “i mean, i’ve been to new york before—just not this hotel. i’m here for work.”
“i see,” when you faced towards him, john never meant to do a double-take. several glances were hidden in between the constant motion of drinking, the heat relieving john’s body whenever he took a sip—he likened it to medicine. “enjoying your stay then?”
but the more john looked at you, warmth began to rise instead. it eventually settled on his chest, neck, and cheeks to his dismay and it does not intent to wear off, no matter how many sips he took in greatest efforts to push it down—in a void somewhere, where he believed his feelings deserved to be buried.
“it could be better.” alcohol was a powerful drug, because you were one-hundred percent sure that the chance of you flirting without a drink would’ve been close to zero.
it came out of nowhere—this feeling. fleeting or not, your pants tightened and you needed a release. if it wasn’t him, then it was going to be someone else. and if you really couldn’t get laid, you’d be content with dry-humping a pillow.
you’ve seen it in the movies before—well, usually from a women—but it should be universally accepted, right? confidence was sexy: show some skin, make your intentions clear, and handle rejection like a real class act. 
worst he could do is say no…
“I don’t mean to be crass, but,” you tugged on your necktie, loosening it around the collar, and unbuttoned only the top two buttons. a slight breeze ghosted your neck as it radiated and yearned for lust—kindled further when you downed another drink, a last stop for encouragement, but also a device to handle rejection all at once. “do you want to fuck?”
john watched you stone-faced, but there was clear interest in his eyes—you watched it spread across his dark orbs. 
it was telling that you both needed something—a release: you with work and him with being mugged, apparently. your fingers tapped on the counter, impatient for an answer. 
after a smooth swig of his drink, john got up and beckoned to you with a small smile. “come on.”
as soon as the door shut, you were backed into it with considerable force—not a single second to spare. you held onto john in blind support, groping at his broad back and hips while john’s needy palms worked at your ass, squeezing tight to aid the erection in his pants.
“fuck.” pressure applied to your clothed bulge as john pressed his hips against you, rutting in irregular rhythms conducted by pure lust, and you desperately returned them, needier as you rubbed into his thigh. your moans caught between his lips when the pair found themselves on you, kissing you with the utmost passion—poisonous, because it stole your breath away. 
“i could come just like this.” you spared enough oxygen to breathe out, but later found it swallowed when john kissed you again, eagerly licking the inside of your mouth. his tongue was sloppy, mixing the sweetness of your drink with the burn of his to form an entirely new recipe that only the two of you would share. 
complete darkness filled your sight while your neck was then bombarded with rough kisses, only broken when john unwillingly tore himself from your skin to strip himself. it was a tedious process because he was greedy, returning back to your neck and lips whenever a piece of clothing was thrown to the corner of the room.
but you were impatient, as was he, and knew things would never progress if he was submitted under the smell and soft touch of your skin. so you playfully pushed him, squeezing his chest in midst, and constantly knocking him back to his amusement while the glow of the moon became your guide to the bed.
“keep that up,” john held you by the waist again, applying his bare body to your clothed figure, half-undressed with your trousers and shirt left, as you felt his beard against your skin. a gentle brush tickled you, but his darkened, low voice sent goosebumps. “and we won’t make it to the bed.”
“hm.” a hum vibrated in your throat while he kissed your neck again, suckled at his favorite area because he could feel your cock throb against him, desperate to be freed from the fabric. 
you watched him in the moonlight as john began undoing your clothes, leaving a wake of hot kisses down your body the more you unveiled before him—cold, but john’s mouth made up for it as it wrapped around you like a warm glove. no warning whatsoever, but you preferred that, shuddering when he worshipped your body like a knight to a prince; calmed caresses to your calves while he polished your cock with godly licks. 
john’s fingers spidered up your legs and his palm found its way to your ass again, spanking one cheek hard enough for you to suddenly thrust your cock into his mouth and down his warm throat. “oh, fuck-“ 
he moaned around you, vibrations riding your thick veins as it would take a electrifying trip up north until you moaned, pleaded with him to be fucked—to no avail, simply because he was stubborn. 
briefly, john let you go with a slimy pop to stroke you, standing back up to kiss you in midst. you tasted yourself, the saltiness of your pre-cum lining your taste-buds as his tongue ran over yours in a wet and sloppy affair. “god, you taste so good…”
simultaneously, your hand worked at his cock, under-handing the weight of it with slow strokes—to the intimate arousal of your sluggish tongues moving with one another. it wouldn’t be long until you found yourself pressing into him again, gliding your wet cock against his, spreading and sharing john’s thick saliva between the two muscles.
your lips never his, neither did your hand on his cock—both of your cocks now, clumsily stroking—even when john began to prod at your hole with his finger, lubed up seconds before, teasing. only then, you pulled away when his finger slid into you with careful ease, and you flushed forward.
he embraced you with one arm around your body, holding you still while he worked you open, curling inside of you deeper with quickening intervals. you could practically come undone from this, but you refrained from doing so, distracting yourself with kisses to john’s chest, then his nipples, sucking hard to counter the overwhelming pleasure.
but he had the upper hand on you, only realizing when you immediately flexed around him when he pushed into you with another finger—slight difficulty, and so he worked you open once again. though, it doesn’t last long because he wanted to feel the tight stretch you’d provide for him—a heavenly need you’d happily supply. 
without any guidance, you bent over the bed and pushed your hips out, and he held you close. you laid there bare before him, looking back completely vulnerable while john toyed with you, taunting your arousal as he slid his cock in between your ass cheeks, wet and sticky from the lube. 
“come on…” you almost whined out into the sheets, refraining yourself from wiggling your hips. 
his silhouette didn’t budge and he only agitated your impatience even further by tracing your pucker with the plump tip of his cock, slow and teasing with a smirk you could hear. “you want me that bad?”
“fuck,” you were never one to admit things easily, and this wasn’t going to be the start of it. equally as stubborn as john was, you groaned into bed again and used your core to push back at his taunts. you began reaching back amid his continuing tease to grab ahold of his length. “if you’re not going to fuck me, then i’m going to-“
john’s reflexes were fast. as soon as you wrapped your hand around him, he pinned you further into the bed with a firm shove to your back. your chest stung when it rubbed harsh against the sheets and you immediately let go, lying pliant under his force. “you’re going to what?”
you struggled to move—to escape from his hold—but he was stronger in every way possible. every struggle was met with an ache to your body as he barely used a fourth of his strength to hold you down.
and your cock couldn’t have gotten harder.
“I’m going to-“ before you could respond, your throat dried up as john pushed himself inside of you with one slow yet rugged thrust, pushing heat back in, and filling your hole up with more. “f-fuck!” every muscle in your body tensed and you shouted out, almost a whimper.
his cock was thick inside of you. you can feel every pulse, every vein as he worked himself into you, back and forth with deep and slow thrusts, painfully stretching you out. it knocked the breath out of you and your legs wobbled, feeling your current stance weakening as your toes curled into the floor, desperately clinging onto the arrival of your soreness.
but you loved it. you loved how barely prepped you were because you can feel every inch of him reaching deep inside and violating your hole with the uttermost disrespect. he held your wrists together, your arms back and your chest pushed forward while your cock rubbed against the bed, and fucked into you—faster, harder. “look at you, fuck. you take cock like it’s nothing, hm?“
“m-mmm!” you whimpered out in response, your breath hitching as he repeatedly slammed his hips into you, continuously knocking any thought out of you. the painful pleasure was dizzying, finding solace in muffling your moans into the covers. your breath warmed your cheeks as you rocked into the bed from impact, gliding your cock in between the bed and your pelvis along. 
there was an ache in your shoulders, in your arms, in your wrists, but john’s cock overpowered every feeling to the point where they became numb. all there was left was john’s rapture and you basked in it. the heaviness of the sex-filled air, the humidity of your bodies when john decided to push his all of his weight onto you and fuck you like you were nothing but a void, the warmth of his breath when he kissed your shoulder and neck, and the sting when he bit.
overwhelming was an understatement of your current state of euphoria. you took him in and overloaded yourself into his pleasure. every thrust, every breath was submerged into you, compelled to mirror even a fraction of the pleasure john felt, and it was only when his cock drove into your prostate with unbeatable force that you did—tenfold.
“oh, fuck! don’t stop,” you cried out, desperate in pushing back against him because you never knew if john would pull away anytime soon. “fuck me just like that, fuck!”
and he doesn’t. john was a man of promise and he delivered your pleas with force and speed, letting go your wrists to spread your cheeks apart and watch you be fucked open with his thick cock, growing more swollen with every passing second. you can feel his balls following his thrusts, swinging against your sweaty skin and creating the most delectable sounds. “like that, yeah? you like my cock, just like that?”
“f-fuck, yes!”
in this moment, you were his, under his control, and selfishly captured when john devastated your prostate with one more powerful thrust to your demands, and you found the stars. they resided in the back of your eyelids as you came—thick and heavy—in between the sheets and your twitching body. 
it wouldn’t be long until john joined you in your trip to heaven, his grasp on your hips hard and bruising as he yanked you back and met your ass to his cock one last time in uniting your body with his. 
warmth began to fill you as john came undone, shooting deep inside of you. his hips slowed, but never came to a stop as you clenched around him, tight and yearning for his seed, and with that, he milked himself inside of you, giving you all of him and what was left of him—creamy and thick. 
his breath was heavy in your ear as he pressed his chest to your back, and you groaned, coming down from the high that you just experienced. sleep approached for the both of you, but he maintained the steadiness of his hips, spreading his load in you as if he was marking his territory.
“so... how long until you’re leaving?”
“mmmph, four more days….”
"good."
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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heizlut · 2 months
Note
Breeding kink with Razor
this is so fitting for him, i love it! i’m adjusting his speech pattern slightly just so it flows a little better, hope you don’t mind❤️
Instincts
cw: public sex, breeding, biting/marking, ovulation, mentions of pregnancy
tags: switch fem!reader, switch!razor, he’s literally 18 so scroll away if you have an issue xoxo💋
nsfw under the cut
m!list here
⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎
You and Razor had a bit of an odd relationship. He came across you months ago, spying behind a tree in Wolvendom when you made your first appearance there. He was wary of you, not sure if you were friendly or there to hunt the wolves he called family. Once he saw you were only there for the wolfhook each time you came, he started to gain the courage to get closer.
In truth, you had started going there because you had heard about him through the Knights of Favonius and wanted to see him for yourself. You knew he was watching, but you didn't want to startle him, so each time you came you only gathered some wolfhook and went on your way. Each day was the same routine, until one day he approached you, still a little wary of you, "...Nice?"
Those were his first words to you. Your eyes landed on him and you smiled brightly, "I am." You were captured by the way he looked; toned muscles, scars across his body and face, long thick silver hair, and crimson eyes. He was better than you had imagined, even if his manner of speech was a little strange. After letting Razor smell your neck, he smiled at you telling you that you smelled like a flower.
Every quirk he had was so cute to you. Weeks passed and each day you would visit Razor, getting to know each other and he grew to trust you immensely. You even had been helping him speak in more proper sentences, although that was still a work in progress. You would be a fool to miss the way his gaze lingered on you and the way he would get as close to you as he could without outright being on top of you.
You looked to him, only to see Razor had already been staring at you. He tilted his head a little as you studied each other in silence. You were the first one to break it, "Do you want to be with me?" The look of confusion on his face made you giggle, "Am with you now, no?" How cute and innocent he was... You shook your head still laughing, "I mean romantically."
Razor's eyebrows scrunched as he repeated the word back to you, clearly unsure of what it meant. You didn't think words would help you out with this, so you reached up and turned his face to yours, pressing a kiss to his lips. He knew what you meant now as he melted into the kiss. Ever since then, you two were inseparable. Which bring us to the present.
The sun was setting, low in the sky, when you made your way to your usual spot. Before you could even call out to him, Razor pounced on you, knocking you both to the ground and making you squeal, "Razor wha-" Your words are cut off when you feel something hard press against your core and his nose lightly grazing your skin as he takes in your scent, "You smell...Different. Good..."
Your cheeks immediately heat up. You were ovulating and he could smell it. Did he even know what that meant? Razor's nose trails down your body til it reaches your cunt, his nose pressing against your clothed clit, making you suck in a breath. He nudges it again, then his eyes flick up to yours, "Here. New good smell... I want more." He doesn't wait for your response before he starts tugging down your pants.
"Razor wait! We're outside... What if someone comes?", your voice came out a little breathy, feeling an aching need at your center. Razor tilts his head, "Why care? No one comes." He was right. People usually avoided coming to Wolvendom. Besides, you were more needy and sensitive than usual because of your ovulation. You just wanted to be filled. You end up lifting your hips slightly to help Razor who continued to tug at your pants.
The warm breeze brushing against your exposed pussy made your scent even more potent to him. Razor immediately begins lapping at your cunt, drawing a sweet moan from within you. The way his tongue circled your clit and lapped at your arousal made you tug his hair. He practically growls when you do so, not wanting to separate himself from something so new and delicious, so he latches on to it. Razor’s lips suck your clit into his mouth while his tongue continues it’s lashings. Your head falls back against the soft grass as you come undone on his tongue.
The taste was even more divine than it smelled, making him continue and overstimulate you. Your legs shake hard and you tug his hair hard with a soft cry of his name. Razor glances up at you curiously but annoyed you wanted to pull him from this. His mouth open and tongue still against your clit. “Come here…” your voice is shaky as you try to get him to listen. Thankfully, he finally does, crawling up and caging you in with his body, “Why? Wasn’t finished…” You roll your hips up making your bare cunt grind against his bulge, “I want you inside me.”
Razor lets out a deep groan as you grind up into him, “What in where? Help..” You knew he was legitimately clueless but him asking you to be so specific sparked something inside of you. It turned you on. “I need your cock in my pussy. Fill me up. Breed me.” Those last two words did it. Oh he knew what that meant alright. Razor fumbles with his pants, wanting to free his throbbing length. You almost laugh at how hard he’s trying and you take over. Catching him off guard, you roll the both of you over, you now caging him in. You smirk when he looks up at you with surprise, “Let me do it.”
Razor almost pouts but stops the minute your hand wraps around his cock, his eyes goes wide at the new sensation and at a loss for words. He has so many questions but they’d have to wait because now your were slowly sinking yourself down onto his dick. He grips onto your hips as though you would disappear from him any second and his eyes almost roll back, “Good…. So good…”
Once you were fully seated on top of him, you begin to move slowly. You grind against him and then begin to move yourself, letting his cock drag in and out of your walls at a brutally slow pace. Every time his cock went back in to the hilt, Razor felt he was going insane. So much so that now he flipped the position yet again, leaning down to lick at your neck, and he growls, “Too slow.” Before you can even ask what he means, he begins thrusting inside your tight wet cunt as if this would be the first and last time he ever got to fuck you. You cry out, digging your nails into his scarred back, your legs wrapping around his toned waist to keep him close.
The growls and grunts that fall from Razor’s lips sound so primal, as if he’s just running in instinct at this point. And he really truly is. Every since he smelled that delicious scent, his instincts were telling him he needed to fuck you so full of his cum and make you swell with his children. The sounds coming from both of you and from the way his balls slapped against your ass and the way your pussy squelched with each hard thrust was so incredibly lewd. Razor leans back down to your neck, biting hard enough to break skin as he growls once more, “Mine.” This brings you completely over the edge, your sweet pussy pulsating around his cock as you cum.
It’s not long til Razor follow suit. He latches onto the mark he gave you, letting out a muffled, husky groan as he fills you with his potent load. The way his cock throbs inside of you makes you feel overstimulated for the second time that day. Razor stays still for a moment, not wanting to pull out. Not wanting to be done. He wanted to see your breasts grow bigger and your stomach swell. He wanted to make you his for life. The thought alone makes his cock begin to harden inside of you once more and he looks into your eyes, “Again.”
⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎
a/n: this makes me want to write knotting/omegaverse fics😭
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hyperactively-me · 7 months
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I saw a similar request, but this idea has been in my mind for a long time. An ally from a neighboring kingdom has arrived with his heir, a prince who is her age. Simon is infuriated by the way the prince looks at his treasure and is clearly jealous, but he doesn't show it. However, later that night, he takes and «claims» her all night, and she doesn't understand what got into him
oopsies my fingers slipped and i'm posting this earlier than i originally planned. got some angst packed in here. and smut! someone's jealous. but also extremely concerned. hope you like! also i made up random characters for this (again) lolz. also last thing, this is lowkey long
warnings: smut, inexperienced!reader
The morning sun spilled through the windows of your shared royal chamber as you and Simon prepared to receive King Victor and Prince Theodore. King Victor was an extremely trusted ally to Kastron, strong bonds between the two kingdoms stemming from decades ago. You donned a gown of regal blue, embroidered with intricate patterns that reflected your wealth and status. The dress flowed gracefully around you, accentuating your figure and emphasizing your beauty.
“Si, can you please tie the back for me?” you question, reaching around to tug at the strings resting on your back. 
Simon turned to face you, securing the cufflinks on his sleeves. “Of course, love,” he murmured, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers deftly moved to secure the ties of your gown, and he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your shoulder. 
As he finished securing the gown, his hands lingered on your shoulders, turning you around to face him, and he met your gaze with a certain intensity. “You look beautiful, as always,” he said, his voice low and husky.
You couldn’t help but smile, a warmth spreading across your face. “Thank you, Si.” You peck his cheek, grabbing his hands in yours. Simon's eyes softened, and he brushed a strand of hair away from your face.
“Are you ready?” he asks, pulling you towards the door.
“Yup, I’m ready,” you sigh, straightening your dress once more before stepping outside. 
The arrival of King Victor and Prince Theodore was imminent, and the royal staff buzzed with anticipation. The bond between Kastron and their kingdom was unbreakable. The visit was meant to strengthen the enduring ties between the two kingdoms. As the grand doors swung open, King Victor and Prince Theodore entered with an air of regal grace. King Victor, with his silver hair and a warm, wise smile, exuded a commanding presence. Prince Theodore, around your age, was a mirror image of his father, possessing a handsomeness that drew attention.
“Ah, Simon,” Victor spoke, approaching him with a smile. 
“Victor, very nice to see you again,” Simon replies, shaking Victor’s hand with a firm grip. 
“Of course you remember my son, Theodore?” Victor says, pulling Theodore into his side. 
“It’s been a while, but yes, I vaguely remember,” Simon replies, giving Theodore a firm handshake as well. 
“You are going to introduce us to your new queen, right?” Victor quips, clapping Simon on the back with a friendly chuckle. 
“Of course, Victor,” Simon smiles, placing his hand on the small of your back. With a slight nudge of his hand, he pushes you forward in front of Victor and Theodore. “Allow me to introduce you to my wife, the queen.”
You offer a polite curtsy, your regal grace on full display. “Your majesty,” you greet, smiling warmly at Victor. You extend your hand to him, and he accepts it with a warm smile.
“My queen, how lovely it is to finally meet you,” he smiles. He reminds you of your father, warm yet commanding. “I’ve heard of your marriage to good ol’ Simon here. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to attend the wedding. But now that I’m here, it is safe for me to say that Simon is lucky to have you.” 
You smile at Victor, his well wishes flattering you. “I truly appreciate the sentiment, your majesty.”
You turn to face Prince Theodore. “Your highness,” you greet, extending your hand out to him. Theodore grabs your hand lightly, bowing before you. 
“Your majesty, how flattered I am to bask in your presence,” he says, his voice buttery smooth. 
His gaze is anything but subtle. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Prince Theodore—”
“Please, call me Theo.”
His concern caught you off guard. “Oh, yes, of course, I apologize—”
“No need to apologize,” he murmurs, holding onto your hand longer than he has to. You maintain your composure, withdrawing your hand gracefully from his grasp. You don’t notice the way Simon straightens his back a little, a subtle tension settling in his posture, like a coiled spring. 
“Come, now,” Victor sighs, wrapping an arm around Simon’s shoulder. “How about we start these dreaded talks?” he jokes, laughing jovially as he pulls Simon towards the meeting room. 
You turn to follow them, but not before Theodore offers you his arm. You take it with a smile, following behind Victor and Simon. The presence of Prince Theodore's arm linked with yours added a weight to your steps as you followed the others into the meeting room. Unbeknownst to you, his demeanor made it clear that he had little intention of keeping things strictly formal.
Once the doors are shut, Simon turns to you, jaw clenching as he sees you arm in arm with Theodore. Immediately, Simon is striding over to your seat, next to his of course. He pulls it out for you, motioning for you to sit down. 
“Thank you, Simon,” you smile at him, settling down in your seat. Simon turns to glare at Theodore for a split second before taking his seat next to you. 
Once inside, the discussions began. You, Victor, and Simon delved into matters of trade and alliances, and Prince Theodore was left with more observing. You and Simon had discussed what would happen in this meeting in the days leading up. This would be your first official involvement in Kastron’s affairs with an ally. You would offer as much aide as you could, utilizing your knowledge from your lessons with your advisors.
As the meeting began, you inserted yourself into the talks confidently, trying your best to be as diplomatic and professional as possible. When you were about to speak again, Theodore interrupted you.
Theodore raised an eyebrow, his eyes locking onto yours, then flitting to Simon. “Forgive me, but I can't help but be curious about something,” he said, his tone light yet probing. Theodore addresses you by your first name, taking you slightly aback. No one refers to you by just your first name other than Simon and your family. You don’t notice the way Simon narrows his eyes in annoyance at Theodore. 
“Your confidence is truly a sight to see,” Theodore compliments, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “It’s honestly impressive to see, especially only becoming queen of Kastron a couple of months ago.”
You smile appreciatively at him. “Oh, thank you,” you gush, “I’ve been doing lessons for the majority of my time here, but I’ve really fallen in love with Kastron.”
Simon knocks his knee into yours under the table, his leg resting right against yours.
Theodore leans back in his chair, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Prosperity and alliances aside, I can't help but be curious about the person you are behind the title. I'm sure there's more to you than just diplomacy and royal duties.”
“Oh, well, maybe we can talk afterwards?” you suggest, smiling at him politely. “I’m sure we would like to get these talks over as soon as possible.”
Simon’s hand appears under the table, thick fingers tracing your thigh and coming to rest on the slope of your inner thigh. You squirm slightly as his fingers linger on your thigh, but you keep your mouth shut. 
“I would be delighted,” Theodore smiles back at you. 
Theodore’s interjections and conversation directed towards you for the rest of the meeting made Simon feel like he was losing his sanity inch by inch. As the discussions wore on, you didn’t notice the way Simon's jaw clenched intermittently. He maintained a diplomatic facade, but the strain was evident. 
The meeting started wrapping up, all good results for both parties. 
“Well, we would like to thank you for coming, Victor,” Simon says, shaking Victor’s firmly. “I had no doubt in my mind that we wouldn’t be able to come up with an advantageous agreement for the both of us.”
“Always a pleasure, my boy,” Victor smiles enthusiastically, shaking Simon’s hand.
Victor turns to you. “And, my dear, a wonderful job you’ve done here! You have great potential.” 
You smile graciously, extremely pleased that an experienced monarch complimented you. 
“Thank you, Victor, your words mean so much to me.” 
Prince Theodore taps you on the shoulder. Simon immediately tenses beside you, placing a hand on your waist. 
“Do you still want to talk?” Theodore asks with an air of confidence, eyeing Simon for a brief moment. “I could use some advice in terms of meetings like these…you just did such a wonderful job.” 
You turn to Prince Theodore with a polite smile, not noticing the tension that lingers in Simon's expression. “Certainly! I’ll try my best!”
Theodore's gaze lingers on you, his eyes sparkling with a subtle charm. “I was thinking perhaps we could talk somewhere else? I'd love to hear more about Kastron from your perspective.”
Before you can say anything, Simon is interrupting you, voice stern and gruff. 
“She’s actually feeling quite exhausted.”
“Wha—”
“We must be off, it has been a long day,” Simon continues, squeezing you flush against him. 
Your eyebrows raise slightly in confusion at Simon’s intervention, but you quickly recover, offering a polite smile to Prince Theodore. “I apologize, Prince Theodore, but Simon is right. It has been a long and productive day, and I’m afraid I am feeling a bit fatigued. Perhaps we can continue our conversation another time?” 
Simon, his expression firm, nods in agreement. “Another time, Prince Theodore. We appreciate your understanding.” And with that, Simon practically drags you away and to your chambers, arm still fastened around your waist. 
. . . 
“Simon, what was that back there?”
The moment the door clicks shut, Simon is practically on top of you. 
“Woah— hey, big guy, what’s—”
“Quiet,” he commands, pressing his body up against yours. He’s slotting you against him, grabbing your hips with fervor. 
“Simon—”
And he’s kissing you. Kissing you with an intensity in a way that feels…different. He’s pressing into you so hard that you don’t fully realize when your back hits the wall. 
Simon slots his knee in between your legs, bucking his knee up into you, pressing into your clothed clit just right. You gasp into his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulders for support. Simon groans at your reaction, the way your hands feel against him is heavenly. But his shirt is in the way. And his pants. In one fluid movement, Simon shucks his shirt off and presses himself back on you. 
“Simon, what’s gotten into you—?”
“Saw the way he was looking at you—”
“Wha– who?”
“Theodore.”
“What?” you stop moving. “What are you talking about?” 
You push your hands against his bare chest, trying to push him off you. “What are you talking about?” He moves back, removing his knee from in between your legs. 
“He was trying to get in your pants,” he says bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest. 
Your face heats up at his accusation, “Simon, he was not—”
“He wouldn’t stop talking to you.”
“He was just interested in political advice! Yeah, he was a bit immature during the meeting, interrupting me, but that was it,” you exclaim. 
“No, no he wasn’t—” Simon pinches the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut.
“How do you know?” you question, raising your eyebrows at him. 
“I’m a man. I just know.”
“Really? Simon, I–”
He interrupts you.
“I cannot have a repeat of Valerian.” 
You’re silent, and suddenly you feel small under his gaze. His eyes search yours, emotion coursing through him. 
“Valerian was truly dangerous. They are not the same—”
“I don’t like taking that chance with you,” Simon presses, returning his hands back on your hips. His grip returns you back against the wall. You look at him, mouth parted slightly. You lick your lips and nod with understanding.
“I can’t stand Theodore, the prying little prick.” 
You rub Simon’s arms in soothing motions, up and down. You know where this is coming from. He’s just scared. 
“I know,” you whisper quietly. 
“We’re going back to daily self defense training,” Simon adds on, breathing hard into your ear. “And ‘m gonna assign a personal guard to you.”
You get goosebumps from his breath against your skin. You nod slowly, chewing your lip.
“Okay.”
“I should’ve done all of this sooner, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m a bad husband—” 
“No, no you’re not, Si,” you whisper, pulling him against you. You rest your cheek against his bare chest, his skin hot against your face. “You’re not.”
You take his face in your hands and pull him down for a gentle kiss. He lets out a breath as your lips meet his, and he’s leaning against you again, making you take his body weight against the wall. His hands reach around your back, pulling at the strings on your dress with his meaty fingers. You reach around your back to help him, yanking at the strings and hoping it unravels. With a satisfied grunt, Simon yanks the knot free, letting the dress slip from your shoulders. 
He kisses you again, hands pulling the dress of your form. Simon pulls you into his arms, his chest pressed against yours as if trying to consume you whole, his hand shooting out to brace against the wall as he walks you back into it once more, moving his knee back in between your pillowy thighs. You gasp into his mouth as his knee comes back into contact with your core, beckoning you to slide against him. 
“Oh—” you whisper, your head falling back against the wall as he rocks his knee against you. 
He kisses his way down your throat, nipping at the skin before sucking a hickey on your flesh. You gasp, trying to push him off. It’s too late, and he’s looking at you with a certain glint in his eyes.
“Si, people are going to see that—” “Let them,” is all he says, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lip. “You’re mine. Only mine.” 
You feel his cock press into your thighs. You stutter as desire pools between your legs. He starts rocking his knee against you harder, making you swallow your words as a moan threatens to escape your throat. You involuntarily grind against his thigh, eliciting a small chuckle from him. His hands move to your hips, pushing you down more firmly onto his thigh, a soft gasp falling past your lips.
“Thas’ it, love,” he encourages, grabbing your hips firmly, pushing you against his thigh. You gasp louder this time as your clothed cunt makes contact with him. 
He revels in your reaction, loves hearing your sounds. You bite your lip, unaccustomed to the way you felt against his leg. Your shyness only spurs him on, pulling your hips forward, dragging you against his covered thigh once more. 
“Si,” you garble, clutching onto his shoulders, your wetness pooling in your panties. You let your head fall in front of his chest as he pulls and pushes at your hips. You pant softly, "Fuck, Si," curling your fingers into his skin deliciously. 
“Feel good, dove?” He drawls, lost in your pleasure. He watches you nod slowly. “I’m the only one who will make you feel this good.” 
You grab his shoulder tightly as he speaks, your wetness surely soaking through your panties now. 
“F- feels so good,” you murmur with a shaky breath, groaning lightly at the way he nudges you on his thigh, the feeling of fabric rubbing against your clit making your legs tremble slightly. 
Simon slides his fingers up into your panties, sliding his fingers through your slick and pressing at your clit before pulling them back out. You shiver from the loss of contact, a glossy look washing over your eyes as you watch Simon bring his now dripping fingers up to his face. 
“So wet,” he notes, wiggling his fingers in front of your face. “S’ wet all for me.” 
You nod your head quickly, becoming lost in your own pleasure, moving your hips faster. “Only for you.”
Simon watches you intently, bringing his slick-covered fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean as you watch him. He groans at the taste of you, bucking his knee up into you, making you moan. “Taste s’ good f’me,” he mumbles around his fingers, licking every last drop. 
You look up at him, mouth agape. “I– I think,” you mumble, grasping onto his shoulders with a death grip. Your knees start to shake, the coil in your stomach threatening to unravel. 
“Let go, love,” Simon encourages you, rutting you harshly against his thigh. 
You feel the coil in your stomach snap, moaning as you arch your back, hips rutting forward. You dig your nails into his shoulders, pressing your forehead up against his chest as you roll through your climax. 
“Thas’ it, darling, so good all f’me,” Simon says huskily eyes darkening as he removes his leg from in between your thighs. Immediately Simon is pulling you over to the bed, laying you down gently. He was planning on being anything but. 
Your mind is hazy as he climbs on top of you, your climax dripping through your now completely soaked panties. Simon lowers his head down, presses his nose into your clothed cunt, the top of his nose pressing into your clit. You gasp again, hands finding purchase in the bedsheets. 
Simon grabs the edge of your panties with his teeth, then pulls, ripping them off your body. You shriek, heat creeping up your face, “Si- Simon! Those were one of my favorites—”
“I’ll get you another,” he coos at you, licking your slick off your folds. Then he dove in. You let out a deep seated moan as he pressed his tongue through your folds, humming and groaning at your taste. He digs his fingers into your thighs, groaning louder as he tastes more of you. He’s so vocal with the pleasure he derives from you, always so eager to please you.
“‘M the only one,” he hums into your cunt, “who’ll taste you like this.” 
You’re so wet it’s dripping down his chin, his nose, his lips. You nearly sob as he presses impossibly farther into you, squeezing his head around your thighs. Your hips buck off the bed as his tongue presses inside you, grinding down on him as his nose hits your clit. He groans as you spasm around his tongue, grasping your hips in a bruising grip. He moves back up to your clit, pressing his tongue against your bud, swirling around your bundle of nerves. Tears prick your eyes, the stimulation bringing you close to the edge again. 
“Simon,” you cry out, pawing at him. He ignores you, relishing in the way your back is arching off the bed. He’s bringing you to the edge, again, and the moment his eyes flit up to meet yours, you cum. Your eyes roll back, the coil within you letting loose once more. Simon moans as his tongue laps up your release eagerly. 
With lightning speed, Simon is crawling back up your body and kisses you, long and deep, shoving your slick inside your mouth for you to taste.
“Taste s’good, baby,” he praises, squeezing your hips as he kisses you. He shudders as your nails scratch down his back gently, grazing his shoulders with an unexpected gentleness. 
Simon leans down to your collarbone, pressing hickies into your skin, much to your dismay (you loved it). You could care less that there’ll be visible marks all over your body by the time he’s done. He goes farther, sucking hickies at the tops of your breasts, pulling you against him as he does so. His breath hitches everytime he hears you moan, his hard cock aching in the confines of his pants, your sounds only pushing him farther and farther.
“Please, please” you moan, tugging at his hair, “take your pants off.” 
“Because you asked so sweetly, pretty girl,” he whispers, fumbling with his pants as he practically rips them off his legs. His cock springs free, angry and ready. 
“Please,” you murmur, eyeing his cock. Your fingers brush over it, and he lets out a hiss. Simon grabs your wrist, forcing your hand to close around his member. He drags your hand up and down his cock, once, twice, before he’s twitching. He needs to be inside of you. Now. 
He reaches down to spread your folds for him, then pushes just the tip inside your walls. You groan at the stretch, clawing his back as the meaty tip pries you open. 
“So good–” you moan as he continues to slide inside of you, the stretch making you wince in pain and pleasure. 
“Almost there, lovie, such a good girl,” he praises, keening at the way your nails scratch his back. He lets out a strangled breath as he bottoms out inside of you, letting his forehead rest against yours to catch his breath. 
You whimper as he just sits there, his strong arms clutching your back as he lifts your back off the bed. As he lifts you up, he hooks your legs around his hips tightly. He grabs your back with his strong arms, pulling you up from your previous position on the bed. 
Suddenly, he’s pulling his cock almost all the way before slamming back into you with no remorse. You moan loudly, eyes rolling back as he bounces you on his cock, hard. 
“‘M the only one that’ll fuck you like you deserve,” he groans into your neck, dragging you up and down his cock like its his day job. You whimper and drag your nails down his back, your nails scratching his skin so perfectly, red marks appearing along his rippling muscles. 
He moves faster, pumping into you hard. He’s never been this rough with you before. 
“You’re mine, only mine,” Simon strains. “Say it.” 
“‘M yours, Si,” you babble, grasping onto him. “I’m o-only yours.” You moan as your hands find purchase in the firmness of his back, shoving your head against his neck to leave him open mouthed kisses. 
The words he so urgently craved from you slipped from your lips, prompting a growl to escape from his own.
“Good girl,” he grunts, voice gruff and husky, overridden with lust and the way your legs felt around his hips. “My good girl.”
He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, clutching the back of your head to press his tongue into your mouth deeply. Your eyes fall shut, the pleasure overbearing as he moves his hand from the back of your head to your throbbing clit. Your back arches into him, moaning loudly as he massages your swollen bundle of nerves. 
You clench around his length, breathing ragged, you’re so close. “You’re mine,” Simon drawls, thrusting into you harder, deeper. “I- I’ll fuckin’ kill anyone who touches–” he stutters, speech cut off as you kiss him. You don’t want him to finish that sentence, but you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t sing as he spoke. 
The ever so familiar coil building up in your abdomen breaches your senses, your muscles tightening. Your mind is foggy as he continues pounding into you, playing with your clit, pushing you farther. 
“Takin’ me so well, darling girl.” 
“‘M gonna cum,” you cry out, his fingers on your clit pushing you over the edge. 
“I know, I know,” he grunts, his voice strained from his own impending release. “Cum for me, baby.” 
You whimper as you cum, nails digging into Simon’s back as your senses go into overdrive. 
“G- good girl,” Simon strains, his speed increasing at you coming on his cock. His breathing grows erratic as he slams his hips against yours, hands gripping at your back. “My beautiful girl.” 
Simon slides his hands from your back, letting you fall back on the mattress as he pushes himself into you. 
“I’m yours, Si, always yours,” you whisper, grabbing at his wrist on your hip. “Forever yours.”
You lock eyes with him. 
“You’re mine,” you lick your lips, eyes meeting his. “You’re all mine, Simon.”
He moans at those words alone, closing his eyes as he rolls his hips before releasing inside of you. He drops on top of you, flipping you over so you’re laying on top of his chest. You press your chin against his chest, his racing heartbeat pounding against your skin. 
“Fuck, dove.” He finally opens his eyes, looking right at you. He looks like he’s in utter shock. “Fuck.” 
He doesn’t pull out quite yet, letting his softening cock rest inside you. 
“Hmm?”
“Say that again.”
You shift under his gaze, his eyes practically boring holes in your skin. 
“You’re mine, Simon.” 
He shudders, hands running up your body to rest on your ass. He gives you a firm squeeze. 
He looks at you, a smile tugging on his lips. 
“Damn right.”
- - - - -
(masterlist)
710 notes · View notes
cleoluvrr · 5 months
Text
high school sweethearts (rafe cameron x reader) III
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these are the requirements, if you think you can be my one true love
WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, dub!con, corporal punishment, domestic violence, substance abuse & addiction, controlling behavior, coercion, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, attempted suicide, kook!reader
masterlist
series masterlist
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in spite of your refusal, rafe decided that the two of you were going shopping. it was the last thing you wanted to do, but rafe had an obsession with showing you off to everyone who had working eyes.
ironically, he didn’t hate when men looked at you–at least not while he was around. he loved it. he got a rush from watching other guys ogle you and know they could never have you. you hated public affection, but he loved to kiss you or walk around with his hand dangerously low on your back wherever you went just for wandering eyes.
fancy dinners, midsummers, the country club, charity events; anything that he got parade you around like a prized showhorse. you were sure rafe only took you to those things just to rub it in his father’s face. the child with a reputation of being a drug dealing deadbeat had a smart, well-mannered, soft-spoken girl hanging off his arm everywhere he went. one with reputable parents and was pursuing a college education. it made ward red in the face to know that someone like you was committed to his son, and it made your boyfriend feel overjoyed.
today was no different–not at first.
the last place you wanted to be was in a shopping center filled with rich kids and tourons, but rafe insisted that he wanted to buy you new clothes for the rapidly cooling weather. fall was in full swing and he refused to have his girlfriend walking around town in out-of-season fashion. it made no sense to you; rafe never cared about fashion being in or out of season, but you didn’t feel like putting up a fight.
the exhaustion of pulling your clothes on and off repeatedly was starting to overcome you. your skin was sticky and itchy from the hot fitting rooms, your feet were aching from the mary janes squeezing against your toes, and all the noise was overstimulating you. 
usually, you wouldn’t complain. you would just suck it up until rafe decided to take pity on you and bring you home with pounds worth of shopping bags that you didn’t even want in the first place. it was just something you had to do and there was no use in fighting him on it.
this time, however, you weren’t in any mood to be pulled around by rafe beneath the fluorescent, sterile lights of a crowded mall. 
after the second hour you began huffing and dragging your feet. you were sure rafe noticed, but he said nothing; you were still going along with it enough for him to leave it alone. it was hour three that you actually began to put up noticeable resistance. still he said nothing.
you hoped that your incessant whining would annoy him enough to take you home, but it was of no assistance.
your shoes clicked against the linoleum floor loudly as you stomped behind your boyfriend, jaw clenched and lips jutted out in a glossy pout. rafe’s fingers laced through yours as he led you around, paying no mind to your silent tantrum. you exhaled again, feet planting firmly into the ground as you tugged your hand away from him.
that was what made the blonde finally turn back to face you.
“i wanna go home, rafe.” you folded your arms across your chest as you said it, eyes wide and glaring up at your boyfriend just a few steps away.
he rolled his eyes in response, tongue in cheek. he was clearly annoyed, but you continued pushing anyway.
“we can leave soon, baby.” he reaches for your hand again but you step back to avoid his grasp. a pair of blue eyes squint at you in reaction to your act of defiance.
“don’t ‘baby’ me.” you snipped at him. “i wanna leave now, rafe. i’m tired–i didn’t even want to come here in the first place.”
he reaches for you again silently, his silent response only managing to irritate you further. you smacked his hand away before it landed on your waist.
“don’t fucking touch me!” a few people nearby turned their heads in your direction, your raised volume capturing the attention of passerbyers. “you’re not even listening! i just said i wanna go home now, we’ve been here long enough and i’m fucking irritated.”
rafe hardly seemed moved by your outburst, but his calmness was deceiving to the average onlooker. looking down at the hand you smacked away, his head slowly raised to meet your eyes with a look that had you struggling to collect saliva to wet your dry mouth.
the two of you held the tense contact for what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds. nodding at you, he moved to walk in the opposite direction towards the mall’s entrance. his strong hand snatched you into his hold as he passed by you, long legs leaving you stumbling behind him as he stalked through the center.
rafe’s anger was radiating off of him in waves, so strong that anyone passing by could feel the heat filling the air. he never looked back at you once, but you felt as if he had a second pair of eyes in the back of his head that left your skin boiling. 
though his demeanor was calm, the bone-crushing grip he held on your hand as he dragged you through the mall was enough to know you were in for it. 
you, on the other hand, couldn’t help the chill that ran through every layer of your being. it was hard to tell if your heart had stopped beating completely, or if it was beating so fast that you couldn’t differentiate each thump of it against your chest. your mouth had gone completely dry and the irritation that once filled you was now replaced with a heavy cloak of dread.
reaching his dark colored truck, rafe opened the back door to place the shopping back in the back seat before slamming it shut. the harsh sound made you flinch but rafe paid it no mind as he dragged you to the passenger’s side. your lips were tucked into your mouth tightly as you eyed him warily, the blond man tugging at the handle to reveal your seat in the car. 
the drive to his house was as uncomfortable as you thought it would be. he didn’t turn the radio on like usual, forcing you to sit in silence as you traveled to your destination. it was five minutes in that you realized you weren’t going to your own house like you requested. the realization made your stomach drop. you knew that it meant nothing good was going to happen once you stepped out of the car.
the driveway was empty when the two of you arrived at tannyhill, neither rose or ward anywhere in sight as you approached the large estate. 
your footsteps were light and hesitant as you trailed behind your boyfriend, shoes barely making a sound as they landed against the old floors of his family’s house. the feeling of dread intensified the closer you got to rafe’s bedroom. you weren't sure what would happen and the feeling of unknowing unsettled your stomach.
“y’know…” rafe finally broke the silence between you two as his bedroom door clicked shut. “i do so much for you.”
sitting the shopping bags down in the corner, rafe takes slow steps towards your frozen figure. you sniffed nervously and cleared your throat in response. he places a warm hand on your face when he reaches you, the soft gesture not matching the fire in his eyes. 
“i do so much for you. all i ask you to do for me…is show some respect.” his pink tongue pokes out the side of his mouth to wet his lips before retreating. “isn’t that right?”
“yeah…” the single word came out just as wobbly as you felt. he nodded at you, eyes flickering down to your bobbing throat as you swallowed dryly. 
“‘yeah…’” he mocked your unstable voice. “so–tell me why you think it's okay to talk to me like that? is it ‘cause you don’t respect me?”
you shook your head against the palm he held against your warm cheeks. his gaze was unrelenting and you felt like you were gonna be sick.
rafe already had you on thin ice from going to the cut last week. he was still mad about you blatantly ignoring his request, and this was only another stroke of a hammer to a frozen lake. he hated feeling like you were questioning his authority, but it felt ridiculous to you that your boyfriend thought he had any authority over you as a grown woman. that never mattered to him though; what he says is law in his eyes and if you disobeyed that then you had to deal with the consequences.
cursing at him in public had to be one of the dumbest things on planet earth, but your overstimulated mind couldn’t handle thinking about what could possibly happen. it didn’t quite dawn on you until he started dragging you through the mall, but by then it was too late to fix it. 
he had a short fuse and you’d lit it with your thoughtless actions. 
“i was just tired, rafe, that’s all.” you pouted up at him in hopes that he’d feel some sympathy for you rather than whatever had his bright blue eyes turn a dark shade of navy. “i didn’t mean to disrespect you. i just wasn’t thinking and it came out mean, i’m sorry…”
“you wouldn’t have to apologize all the time if you just…started thinking, huh?” his hand retracted from your face just a couple inches before reconnecting harshly. his palm stung against your skin, not enough to leave a mark but enough to serve as a warning. “fucking answer me.”
“no, i wouldn’t. you’re right,” the warm tingling of your cheek let you know there was no pouting your way out of this. “i was being dumb. i’ll do better, rafey, i promise…”
manipulation was wrong, but what choice did you really have? despite rafe being quick to anger, his soft spot for you was a weakness you’ve learned to use to your advantage over the years. 
when you looked up at him with pitiful, teary eyes and used that cute nickname for him in that little voice that pulled at his heartstrings, how could he stay mad at you? how could he reprimand you when you were being so sweet, so docile? 
you knew very well that he was wrapped around your finger even if he did have the upperhand in the relationship, and you would absolutely play on that when you needed to. 
like right now.
“baby…” rafe sighed at your wet eyes, demeanor softening at the sight. he thumbs over the skin of your cheek where he struck just you moments earlier in a soothing manner. 
looking down towards the floor you begin picking at your nails, the glossy french tips occupying your line of sight instead. it was something you always did when you were nervous, but this time it was only for show. 
“i’m really sorry.” if rafe were so close he wouldnt have heard the words leave your mouth. you prayed to whatever deity was watching over you to let the act work; rafe’s punishments were nothing you wanted to be on the receiving end of at the moment. 
rafe exhales again before removing his hand from your face. pulling you into his chest, he leans down to place a kiss to the top of your head amidst your embrace. if it wouldn’t completely jeopardize the situation you’d jump for joy. you melt into his arms, your own limbs moving to wrap around his lean torso. his hand reaches up to stroke over your head sweetly as he speaks into your scalp.
“go lie on the bed.” 
you tilted your head up at him in confusion. his softened eyes started down at you expectantly before glancing pointedly at the bed a few feet away. your feet carried you to the frame hesitantly, brows coming together as you pulled yourself up on the mattress. you’d barely settled before rafe was right there with you, his soft lips capturing yours in an embrace.
a sound of surprise on your end was swallowed by your boyfriend as he kept your lips connected. his hand came up to cup your jaw, using his thumb to pull your chin down and give him access to the pink of your mouth. you felt his tongue roll over yours gently a few times, the wet sound of saliva mixing filling your ears. 
there was nothing rough about it. even when he nipped at the flesh of your puffy bottom lip, he would take it in between his own and take away the sting of it. his air mingled with yours, and the taste of him almost distracted you from what got you here in the first place. he was good at that–distracting you.
so good, that you don’t notice the sneaky hand traveling between your bodies.
you jolt when a pair of fingers lands between your legs, ones that were not your own, and traces over the thin fabric of your underwear. rafe stopped you from pulling away, the hand on your chin moving to the back of your head to keep you in place. it was hard to focus on reciprocating the kiss when you were trying to stop yourself from pushing your hips up into his slow moving hand.
the feeling of him ghosting over your panties had you whining involuntarily, face heating up with embarrassment after the sound escaped your dry throat. rafe pulled away at the noise, a small smile grazing his lips as he watched you from above. you didn’t even notice that you were grinding into his barely there fingers, desperate for him to give you something more. it had been weeks since you touched yourself, and the last time rafe touched you was before you tried to break up with him.
“you’re so cute…” rafe spoke softly against your parted lips. a breathy chuckle escaped him when you frowned at him frustratedly. “stop pouting, it’s not gonna make me go any faster.”
despite him saying that, you feel him apply more pressure to your now pulsating clit. the friction of the fabric separating his fingers from your bare skin felt good, but not good enough to satisfy you for long. he stroked you from the bottom of your clothed slit all the way to the very top of your pussy before traveling back down and repeating the action. 
the slow, tantalizing circles around your attention–seeking bud made you feel just as miserable as you felt desperate for him to continue. 
rafe’s eyes scanned every inch of your face; the way you trapped your lip between your teeth to keep yourself quiet, the way your big, glossy eyes stared up at him, how your breath hitches when he applied the smallest amount of pressure. there was no hiding anything from him, not when both of you could feel the arousal leaking through the thin, pink fabric that kept your modesty.
he chuckled breathily when you brought a hand down to meet his wrist. you were sure if you wanted to push him away or pull him in closer.
“what is it, baby?” rafe asks curiously. he raises a dark blond brow at the soft whine that slips from your mouth, the answer not satisfactory enough for him. “know how to cuss me out, right? your mouth works just fine–use it.”
you blinked at him slowly, the snippy response on the tip of your tongue being forced down with the saliva gathering beneath the pink muscle. 
“can you…” the words were shaky as they left you, partially due to the teasing fingers spreading your wetness through your underwear. “c-can you touch me…please?”
rafe never made you ask him for anything. he always knew what you wanted, and he was more than willing to give it to you. you were a shy person and that timidity didn’t suddenly disappear when you two started being intimate with each other. it was hard for you to open up to him in that way, and he always made sure that you felt comfortable with him.
if he asked what you wanted, it was normally just teasing. he never really expected an answer and your mousy whimpers were enough for him to keep going. this was not something you were prepared for.
the blonde tilted his head to the side, feigning confusion. the way his digits were pressing into your entrance over the material made your lips part to allow a puff of air to escape.
“touch you?” he said. briefly his eyes flicker down to the hand between your legs being hidden by the fabric of your skirt before returning to meet your eyes. “am i not touching you?”
“but–i…” he was touching you, so you couldn’t argue against that, but he knew that wasn’t what you meant. “you are but th-that’s not...i mean really touch me.” 
“but i am ‘really’ touching you?” you pouted at him, eyes straining as you tried your hardest to prevent them from rolling. “you want more?”
rafe made no moves to oblige to your request when you started nodding your head frantically. instead he squinted at you, blue eyes burning against your skin fueled by his irritation.
“y’know, you’re being kinda…ungrateful, don’t ya’ think?” his tongue sneaks out to moisten his pursed lips. “i’m being so nice and you aren’t even thanking me?”
the hand not occupying the space between your legs travels to take place on your face, his strong fingers pushing in on your cheeks to squish them together roughly. you could feel the pads of the digits digging into the hardness of your teeth and it made you wince from the pain.
his fingers hook beneath the fabric of your panties and move them to the side. the cool air blowing against your newly bare skin was barely noticeable when all of your focus was on your boyfriend sliding through your slick folds. rafe’s face remained stoic even when you released a borderline pornographic moan from the sudden skin to skin contact, his grip on your face preventing you from hiding the sounds of pleasure.
he’d barely touched you and you were practically leaking; it was embarrassing. it’d been forever since you felt relief and he could tell, especially when the sticky mess was all over his fingers. you wanted so badly for them to sink inside and graze against your sensitive, gummy walls, but they never went any deeper than grazing against the entrance.
“i know what m’girl wants, what she needs–” rafe’s voice is soft but he looks the very opposite. the one-eighty almost gave you whiplash; he was being so sweet just a few minutes ago and now he looks just as agitated as he did on the ride home. “i know what you want, baby, i promise…”
you have to force yourself to not chase after his retreating hand with your hips. the loss of contact brings your mind out of its fuzzy, dazed state, bare pussy exposed to the blasting air-conditioning.
his thick digits are glistening in the light and covered in your arousal, strings of the sticky substance connecting his fingers together as he examines them in front of your face. with the hand on your face he forces your mouth to open wider, the flavor of your excitement coated the pinkness of your tongue. the sudden intrusion makes your mouth water reflexively and a sound of protest makes its way out.
“but what you need, is to learn how to be fucking grateful for what i give you.” rafe drags his fingers in and out of the moist coven of your mouth, making sure to thoroughly cover your tongue in the slick that was collected on his fingers.  “you should be grateful that i even touched you at all instead of shoving my cock in that nasty fucking mouth.” 
you almost gasped at the vulgar language but it was interrupted by his fingers shoving themselves deep into your throat. he was unmoved by your gagging, his face getting so close to yours that your noses touched. you could feel stray tears starting to run down your face and leave wet trails in their wake. 
watching as he gathers a pool of saliva in his cheeks, you could do nothing to stop him from allowing it to fall into yours. you feel it land in the back of your throat where his fingers were and flinch. the taste of him joins your pre-release in being fucked down your clenching throat by his fingers, your incessant coughing and gagging no deterrent to him. 
in fact, he finds some joy in it. he chuckles at the sound of your struggling, eyes focused on the wet mess created by your mouth.
“but you don’t even deserve that…my dick is too good for you. filthy ass mouth needs to be cleaned before i’d ever give it to you. ” his blonde locks fall in his eyes as he shakes his head in disapproval. “you know what–get the fuck up.”
pulling his fingers out of your mouth completely and releasing your face, he snatches you up to your feet. he drags you to his bathroom, one of his hands flicking on the lights while the other digs into the flesh of your bicep. 
you watch as he opens the medicine cabinet above the sink and slams it back shut, a white box visible in his hand from the mirror. he releases you for a moment to rip the packing open and reveal a brand new bar of soap. a state of paralysis overtook you from where you stood, eyes following him silently as he cut on the faucet. his gaze is fixated on you through the reflection of the mirror as he allows the bar of soap to foam up underneath the water.
rafe pulls you close, not giving you any chance to escape as he traps you against the bathroom counter with his back against your chest.
“open your mouth.” he says sternly. when you don’t follow instructions, his free hand reaches up to force your jaw open. “i said open your mouth!”
the bitter taste of dial disturbs you, the oval shaped bar scraping against your teeth as it’s shoved into your mouth. a muffled sound of rejection is silenced by the soap occupying all of your senses. you watch in the mirror as rafe holds both you and the foamy bar in place. 
“‘i just wasn’t thinking, rafey, i’m sorry.’” the mocking words were a repeat of what you said earlier. “yeah, you are sorry–but i bet you’ll start thinking now.” 
it felt like an eternity that he held the bar between your lips. when he finally pulled it away, you immediately leaned forward to spit out the substance. rafe was quicker than you, though, his large hand smacking against your lips to prevent you from ridding your mouth of the residue. your hand flew up to his wrist in an attempt to remove it but he doesn’t budge, his palm firm in its placement.
“no, you’re gonna keep it in that dirty fuckin’ mouth.” his voice was harsh in your ear, more annoyed than empathetic towards your desperate squirming. “you think some tears are gonna save your ass? not this time, baby…bet you’ll remember to watch how you talk to me, huh?”
nodding frantically, you plead with your eyes in the reflective glass before you. it was getting hard not to swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth and you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle the harsh taste of filmy, anti-bacterial suds. 
you filled your mouth with handfuls of water as soon as he released you. no matter how many times you brought the liquid to your lips to rinse the residue away, it was all you could taste. rafe remained stiff at your back, the heat of his body radiating against yours as he observed you judgmentally.
“remember how that shit tasted before you ever talk to me like that again, alright?” rafe all but spits the words out at your hunched frame over the faucet. “next time…i won’t be so nice.”
you glance up into the mirror and follow his back as he exits the bathroom. straightening up to your full height you’re met with the disheveled state of your reflection, dry tear stains over your cheeks and chapped lips left behind to show for the mercilessness of your boyfriend. the counter beneath fell victim to the crushing pressure of your fingers as your knuckles strained from the tightness of your grip.
sniffling, your tongue lolled over your chapped lips to moisten them before retreating back to its place. your throat bobbed as you forced the saliva down your throat, the sound of your gulping audible in the silent bathroom. you could hear rafe was shuffling around the bedroom a few feet away, footsteps traveling back and forth as he went through the shopping bags to presumably separate his stuff from yours.
rafe hadn’t done something like that in…in forever. 
the last–and only–time it happened was because you called him out of his name. you could suddenly remember the taste of lavender scented hand soap being scrubbed across your tongue by his angry fingers as he cleaned the words out of your mouth. the way your stomach turned when you would accidentally swallow the liquid every time he pushed too far down your throat. how he treated you like a petulant, misbehaving child deserving of corporal fucking punishment like it was the 1950’s.
you’d nearly forgotten that even took place–maybe because your brain decided it was a memory that had to be blocked out in order for you to stay with rafe after it occurred. you wish it had remained at the forefront of your mind so you wouldn't end up in the position again.
splashing water onto your tearstained face, you wipe away the mess before warily joining rafe in the bedroom on the other side of the doorframe. the end of the mattress was occupied by his body, the back of his head being the first thing you see. 
“come here.” his voice was softer than it was earlier but it still startled you, heart beating through your chest as he beckoned you towards him.
you were suddenly reminded of the wetness between your thighs as you approached him. the way your folds slid against each other beneath your ruined underwear as you took hesitant steps in his direction. it made you feel dirty–even after being gagged with a bar of soap.
pulling you between his legs, rafe rests his arms around your waist as you stand before him. he stares up at you apologetically, almost, eyes soft and bright as he toys with the hem of your sweater. your arms hung awkwardly by your sides, stiff and unsure of where to go.
“you know i just want you to do better right?” he asks. “i’m going to marry you one day, y/n, and my wife can’t talk to me like that…especially not in public. you understand why i had to do that right?”
you say nothing. it feels as if you’re on autopilot the way your head nods, the movement almost a reflex you’d learned just to appease him.
“i can’t keep letting it slide anymore, baby. you’ll just keep doing it and i can’t let everyone think i’m–i’m a pushover…’cause i’m not. i don’t want people thinking i can’t handle my girl–you get that, right?” he nodded his head and you followed his movements, still on autopilot. “you help me be better too, y’know…i just wanna do the same for you, okay?
“okay.” the single word came out so softly you weren’t sure if he heard it. your hands came together to pick at your nails, the slightly grown-out french tips falling victim to the nervous habit.
rafe unwrapped his arms from around your waist and pulled your hands apart as he took them into his own. the warmth of his palms thawed out your freezing fingers, blood rushing back into the tips. his lips ghosted over your knuckles as he blew hot air over them and rubbed the coldness out of them. your body had focused on keeping your organs warm over your extremities, poor blood-circulation a symptom of the persistent anemia you just couldn’t seem to get rid of.
“i love you so much that…th-that i don’t even know how….” he stumbles over his words. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, collecting his thoughts before speaking again.  “i do what i do because i love you, not because i wanna hurt you. i’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose, so don’t ever think that…okay? do you understand?”
you believed him, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do.
truly, you believed he didn’t do anything to hurt you. you knew that he never really had any bad intentions with his actions. rafe was irrational, short tempered, and had never seen what a healthy romantic relationship looked like in his life.
even with all of his flaws, has never hurt you just for the fun of it. he was mean sometimes, sure, but he was like that with everyone. actually hurting you has never been on his agenda, which is probably why you allowed yourself to stick around so long before. however, most of the things he did were reactionary to losing control. it was one of the few things he lacked in his life and he hated when the little he had was taken away from him. 
you were, quite frankly, the only stable thing he had.
if anything were to threaten that stability he would lose his mind. he would do whatever it takes to eliminate that threat; even you. he couldn’t lose you, not when you were all he had. his dad treated him like a disgrace, sarah barely liked him, and sure he had friends–but if he didn’t have money or status, would they stay with him?
you’d seen rafe at his absolute worst, but you never left. when he barely treated you like a human you stuck around because you saw something in him that no one else did. he knew that even if he left, you’d still take him in with open arms and love every part of him. you understood him in a way nobody else could, and he so desperately needed that.
violence and wealth is what his father uses to maintain control over him and everyone else, so that’s all rafe knows how to do. that’s what he was taught, and it’s hard to unlearn when it works so well. 
you’ve seen the things he has done to other people that have crossed him, and though he loved you to the ends of the earth, he would have no problem doing the same thing to you. he made good on his threats to the people that have done him wrong. you knew this first hand because it was you that washed the blood of his hands and bandaged his knuckles. you’d seen the dents in his golf clubs and the scratches in the paint of his car that looked an awful lot like fingernails. you never question it because getting involved in the world of drug dealing rich kids isn’t something on your list of priorities, but you were well aware of what he did to people.
he knew scaring you would keep you around, so that’s what he does. keeps you in a constant state of fear. even if it meant giving you a mouthful of soap.
“i understand.” you dropped your chin lower to look him directly in the eye. his long lashes brushed over the tops of his cheeks as his eyes fluttered open and shut. “i know you’d never hurt me on purpose, so don’t worry about that. i love you…and i’m sorry.”
rafe sighed heavily–out of relief or exhaustion? you weren’t sure. 
opening up your hand to reveal your palm, you watched as he brought it close to his face to place gentle kisses over the skin. you felt him press his lips against each section of your hand from the bottom to the top, no area left untouched. turning it over, he repeats his previous actions. each knuckle on your right hand is left tingling by the pink, pillowy flesh.
“you’re so perfect for me…my perfect girl.” he whispers loud enough for you to hear, eyes opening up to stare back into your watchful gaze above him. “you’re gonna be my perfect wife, too; i know it. gonna put a ring on this finger right here–”
taking a hold of your forefinger, he places a kiss there in the same manner he did your other fingers. he keeps his lips there longer; the intimate action makes your stomach do a flip and your heart swell. you’d felt so many emotions today that you wanted nothing more than to turn your brain off–but he made it so impossible.
“and make you mine forever.” rafe finishes the sentence after pulling away. he laces his fingers into yours and pulls you in with his freehand on your lower back. “everyone’s gonna be so jealous because they can never have you–could never be you.”
even though it killed you to admit it; you wanted it just as much as he did. well, probably not as much–but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you couldn’t see yourself with him forever. the idea of him putting a ring on your finger put a smile on your face even when you tried your hardest to suppress it.
fear wasn’t the only thing keeping you around.
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can i get "get behind me" with Simon “Ghost” please! i love your writing and congrats on 3k!
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“I’m not interested.”
This shitbag had been flitting around you like a puppy begging for a treat. You ignored him at first until he grew more insistent. Seriously, can’t a guy catch a fucking hint? You were clearly waiting for someone, as evidenced by the beer sitting across from you at the two-seater table. You ran your finger over the condensation that had built at the bottom of your glass and shot this motherfucker a glare that could rip paint off of a wall.
“Don’t you have something better to do with your life instead of bugging me?” you asked. His smile dropped just slightly and he glanced over his shoulder at a table of men who were clearly egging him on.
“C’mon. They dared me that I wouldn’t have the balls to talk to you, so help a guy out.”
You pursed your lips and studied him for a moment before answering with a crisp, “No.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. No. Or is that not a word in your vocabulary because you think you’re entitled to waste my time because you want to impress your buddies. Here’s a tip: get a better personality and learn to take a hint.”
You stood up from the table and grabbed the two drinks, intent on finding a new spot further away from shitbag mcgee but he grabbed your bicep and yanked you back. Your drink sloshed over the edge of the glass and spilled onto your top. You slowly raised your gaze to meet his, just as a solid wall of muscle pressed up behind you.
“Hiya baby,” you greeted without so much as a glance at the hulking beast of a man you called your lover reached down and plucked the shitbag’s hand off of you like he was merely some kind of toy.
“Get behind me,” Simon ordered. You complied with a gleeful grin plastered firmly on your face. Instead of his full balaclava, he wore a black surgical mask and a beanie which still gave him an air of intimidation.
“What?” the douchebag extraordinaire laughed, but it was high and oddly-pitched. Good. He was scared. “Gotta fight your girl’s battles?”
“Nah,” Simon answered. “You should be glad it’s me and not her.”
With that, he grabbed the guy and threw him into the pool table two tables over. It shattered underneath him and he curled into a ball as groans and shrieks of pain escaped him. You sighed and took a long sip of his beer before pressing it into his chest.
“C’mon. Let’s get out of here before they ask us to pay for that. Again.”
He grunted but followed after you, his hand settling low on your back as the crowd of people parted before you. Sure, that would be another pub you were banned from, but you wouldn’t trade your guard dog in for anything.
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