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#i have to suck it up like this lady will suck the last bit of self esteem (if i had any) of me and drain me
skepsiss · 16 hours
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For Steddie prompts -- I'm always a fan of older Steve and Eddie, like them in the 90's and still pining type of nonsense
That or them as camp councilors, for Summertime for us Northern Hemispherers ♥️✨
Pining in the 90s.... hmmm, as in they're not together yet? I'm going to take this in a rather AU way, hope you like it! Ooops, it's almost 2,000 words.... but whatever. (Anyone can send me a prompt! Please do) --
Eddie hoisted his guitar up his shoulder, grunting as he picking up his duffle and staggered away from the bus. It was a mild summer day, and he was pleased he had gotten in early to camp, even if he missed getting the extra sleep.
Eddie wasn't exactly 'a morning person,' but mornings came with their perks as Eddie took in the familiar sight of Camp Callingwood. He had never frequented the camp as a kid, but he had started as a seasonal camp counsellor in the late 80s as a last-ditch effort to not be homeless for the summer. It turned out to be one of the best decisions of his life because he had met some of the best people in the world. It was 'one of those perks' and Eddie couldn't help but look around to try and catch a glimpse of the guy he was looking for.
Like a sunbeam on a cloudy day, Eddie caught sight of Steve Harrington making his way down the dirt path toward the bus drop-off. He was talking to a younger woman who was also wearing the counsellor uniform, but Eddie didn't waste time waving Steve over. It took a beat, but Steve smiled wide when he saw Eddie.
"Hey!" Steve called over before saying something quickly to the young woman and then trotting up to Eddie. "Hey, man. I wasn't sure if you'd be coming around this summer."
"Wouldn't miss it," Eddie said cheerfully, letting Steve grab his duffle bag so they could start walking toward the cabins.
"No big break yet then, huh?" Steve asked, saying a few quick hellos to the other counsellors that had just been dropped off.
"You seen my name in the tabloids?" Eddie joked, only feeling a small pinch of embarrassment over Steve's comment. He hadn't made it big despite how much he talked up his music. He knew he was good, but there wasn't always an agent who could see that in the music biz. Still, he was nearly 26 now, and without a break soon, he feared he wouldn't make it at all.
"I guess not," Steve laughed, talking easily with Eddie along the quiet forest path. "Definitely would have taken notice to seeing you. You still selling songs?"
"Yeah, doing pretty good there," Eddie admitted, shyly glancing at Steve as he tried to gauge his attitude toward all of this.
Eddie was doing well in the 'selling songs' department; he could churn out hits for anyone, but it wasn't the music he wanted to play. It sucked that metal didn't seem to be in fashion right now, but no part of him wanted to change his whole personality to fit what was 'popular.'
"Wrote one for Whitney Houston recently," Eddie proclaimed, feeling a bit proud of that sell.
"No shit?" Steve asked, sounding surprised before he bumped his shoulder into Eddie's. "Good for you, man. Cool."
Eddie smiled stupidly, liking the roughness and how boyishly charming it was. When he had first gotten to Camp Callingwood all those years ago, Steve had already been a seasoned veteran at the game. From what Eddie knew, he ran the site year-round now, and maintained the grounds during the off-season too. Eddie was only a temp, but Steve seemed so pleased to see him every year. And every year… Eddie always tentatively sussed out whether or not Steve was still single.
"Any interesting changes?" Eddie asked, glancing at Steve from under his lashes, trying to keep things casual. "No… well, I got a dog," Steve smiled, opening the door to Eddie's cabin for him. "Pepper--she's great company during the winter. It can get pretty lonely up here by yourself."
"New dog, but no lady?" Eddie joked lightly, hoping the answer was no.
"No, no lady," Steve laughed, dropping Eddie's bag on the bunk bed. "They tend not to be great company in the winter when they have to rough it--in my experience."
Eddie laughed lightly, unable to hold back the little bloom of heat in his chest. Steve really was 'one of those perks' and Eddie could hardly wait for camping season to begin so he could sign up as a counsellor again. He liked the kids, and he had fun teaching everyone how to play the guitar, or hosting the 'in-door activities' for the kids that didn't quite fit in with the others, but the real reason he kept coming back was Steve. He wished it wasn't just a temporary thing, but he chickened out asking for more every year he was here.
"Don't get too comfortable," Steve offered, swaying and leaning on the pole of the bunk bed, looking casual as could be. "We've got a lot of kids these first few weeks so I might need to move you into the big house. You don't mind dogs, right?"
The big house was Steve's permanent residence, and it was a proper home rather than the bunk rooms the counsellors and kids usually slept in.
"No--yeah, dogs are fine," Eddie said quickly, "wouldn't mind meeting Pepper though--if you're not up to anything else right now?"
"Sure, I'll see if I can find her. She's probably running around somewhere. She's a bear dog, you know? Well, not for like attacking bears or whatever, but she does a good job of keeping them away," Steve explained, motioning for Eddie to follow him.
Eddie put his guitar down on the bed and followed Steve out, not sure if he knew what Steve meant by 'bear-dog.'
Almost as soon as they got outside Steve was yelling Pepper's name and whistling as he walked toward the mess hall.
"Did you get some new tattoos?" Steve asked as they continued to walk around the camp. Other counsellors were moving about and setting things up or settling into their cabins, the site a hive of activity.
"Yeah, one on my arm and one on my thigh," Eddie said, twisting to show off his new ink. That was another thing he liked about Steve: he didn't seem bothered at all that Eddie had tattoos, even though they were still considered quite scandalous to most employers.
"One more too on my chest, but I'll save that one for later," Eddie joked lightly, pleased to be asked about his ink.
"Later for sure," Steve retorted with a smile, and Eddie blinked at him as he tried to decipher what he meant by that. Later how?
Eddie didn't get the chance to dwell on that thought though as Steve hollered Pepper's name again and Eddie watched as a large white mass bounded toward them through the trees.
"There she is," Steve said pleasantly, crouching down to greet the dog.
Pepper was a Great Pyrenees and far too big for Steve to be crouching down for.
She bounded into him and turned happily, letting Steve rough her up with pets and scratches. He was cooing and making pleasant sounds of affection at her as she wagged her tall and rubbed her head under his chin.
"She's still a puppy, only a little over one year old," Steve explained as he stood back up and Pepper turned her attention to Eddie.
"She's big," Eddie said, a little surprised by the dog's size as she bumped into his hip, looking for attention. He gave her a few good scratches, unable to stop himself from smiling.
"She's friendly--might try and sleep with you," Steve joked lightly, motioning for Pepper to sit.
She obeyed quickly and Eddie grinned as he watched her pant happily, looking for more commands.
"So this is her first summer with the kids?" Eddie asked, crouching down like Steve had before and scratching and rubbing Pepper's neck.
"Yeah, well, in this amount. We get some winter scouts and groups like that, so she has been around kids and she's great with them, but she'll probably be excited to have so many people to spoil her."
Eddie laughed, charmed by how in love Steve was with his dog. If Steve was still single, and he was pouring all of his affection in to a dog… Eddie couldn't see why shooting his shot would hurt. He had backed off every year since he met Steve, but he was feeling determined to at least confirm that Steve wasn't interested in him. They were pals, and sometimes they wrote to one another during the year, but Eddie really wasn't sure how receptive Steve was to the whole… queer thing. He did know that they'd had queer kids at camp before, and Steve had always been gentle and accepting of them, so his attitude couldn't be all negative.
"Let's go grab your keys," Steve said suddenly, and Eddie stood up to follow him. "I'll just give you a master this year, easier that way. It opens all the bunk houses and the utility rooms--and the big house. Easier than trying to sort out all the rings."
Eddie nodded, feeling a small flush creep up his cheeks. It felt rather intimate to be given a key to Steve's house, even if it technically was part of camp property.
Steve handed him the kitschy keychain and Eddie quickly added it to his own keyring.
"Don't lose it," Steve said, sounding only moderately strict. "I only have three of those. You and me are the only ones that'll have them, I don't want to hand out the spare."
"Oh," Eddie frowned, glancing up at Steve. "Are you sure you want to give it to me?"
"Yeah, I trust you, man. Plus, I don't mind you letting yourself in whenever," Steve grinned, walking over to his desk and rooting around the papers there.
Eddie pinched his brow in with confusion, not sure how to react to that. What did he mean by 'letting yourself in whenever'? It sounded so off-handed, but Eddie had no clue if he was supposed to take that seriously or… flirtatiously.
Steve had always been friendly, but this felt like it went a bit beyond friendly.
Eddie swallowed lightly, mustering the courage to speak as Steve turned back around with a clipboard in his hand.
"I could move my stuff into your place now, if you want," Eddie asked, idly picking his nail polish. "Easier than having to do it later. Just… make it my spot for the summer."
It was Steve's turn to stare as they stood there quietly for a beat, before Steve seemed to shake himself from his astonishment.
"Yeah! For sure---that's cool, let's do that," Steve agreed quickly, smiling again but not making a move toward the door.
"You want to show me the room I'll be staying in?" Eddie asked, feeling his confidence grow a bit.
"Yes--yeah," Steve waffled, sounding pleased but a bit surprised for some reason. "Follow me."
Eddie chewed his lip lightly and looped his arms behind his back as he followed Steve out of the cabin. He wasn't certain, but Steve had seemed sort of… flustered by the prospect of them actually sharing a living space. The idea of that encouraged Eddie, and he grinned privately to himself as he thought about retiring for the evening with Steve in his little cabin in the woods. It felt… romantic and it really did set Eddie up to succeed.
Eddie was going to make this summer the summer he asked Steve on a date. He wasn't going to chicken out again.
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joonberriess · 2 months
Text
LOVIN’ YOU ౨ৎ ‧₊˚
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TAGS — unprotected sex, nasty sex, late valentines gift, rough sex, romantic(?), daddy kink, dirty talk, breeding kink, possessive!jk, baby no. 2 might have been made here, spoiler: it was, jk is meannnnn, heavy dom-sub vibes, edging, fingering, oc loves being degraded for being a whore for jk, it gets super soft, love making, oc is a bratty sub in this one, heavy degradation, slut shaming(?), oc wants to CUCK jk as a joke but he gets his lick back on her lmao, PET NAMESSS, this is a spin-off from the main series of flawless!
WORD COUNT — 3.5 k
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“Happy anniversary love.” Jungkook sleepily mumbles as he passes by. He leans over to land a kiss on your forehead, his hand slips from the back of your waist and over your hip settling with a gentle squeeze.
You tilt your head and rest it against his bicep while brushing your teeth. We look good, you think while admiring Jungkook’s bare form. He had decided to forgo a sleeping shirt last night and chose only his slutty silk pajamas you had both bought together on a whim. You were wrapped up in a baby pink robe with a pretty little night slip underneath.
“Is Jae awake,” you softly ask while admiring your appearance in the luxurious mirror. Jungkook says something but you’re busy rinsing your mouth out so you don’t catch it, and by the time you come back up he’s brushing his own teeth with a silly little smile on his face.
“What?” You purse your lips, “What’s so funny?” He shakes his head and spits out the paste from his mouth leaving you a bit annoyed at your husband’s antics. “Hmph.”
You lay your head back on his bicep again and lift your phone up to snap a picture of the two of you. “Say cheese,” you softly giggle while zooming in on his face, bursting out into laughter as Jungkook gives you a foamy smile.
You peep the way your diamond ring and wedding band glistens under the sunlight pouring in through the open french doors, Jungkook’s own wedding band shining just as bright too. You wrap your ringed hand around him and snap a few more pictures for later. “Jungkook–you’re making a mess.” You sigh as water droplets hit your thighs from his little mouth rinsing session.
“Sorry.” Jungkook wipes his face down with a towel and nods in approval at something, “All the little old French ladies are gonna be all over me, aren’t you worried someone’s gonna take me away sweetheart?” He tenderly cups your cheeks and squeezes.
This certainly has your brow raising in question, “Aren’t you worried a French man is going to take me away? What if he whisks me off to the Eiffel Tower and proposes to me? Hm?” You play at his game, watching in satisfaction as a twinge of possessiveness and jealousy spark in his dark onyx eyes.
“Take you? Baby over my dead body,” he tugs you in and holds you against him, “wish a motherfucker would..” He grunts under his breath, the tone sends a delicious little shiver down your spine. You swear you have a second heartbeat right now, you just loved when he got like this.
His big greedy hands grab handfuls of your ass through the flimsy little thong you were wearing under your night slip. A tiny gasp slips from your lips as he abruptly smacks both cheeks making you jump just a little. “Bet you don’t like that huh?” You softly smirk. Jungkook grumbles like you already know the answer to that.
He leans down to leave a flurry of kisses all over your neck and shoulder, irritably growling when your robe gets in the way as he tugs the entire thing off. “Just the fuckin’ thought of someone putting their hands on you pisses me off sweetheart—not everyone should have the luxury of being blessed with your soft little cunt and perky ass.” He whispers darkly in your ear.
“You like that? Like hearing how much I love this slutty body? It makes me never wanna let you leave those sheets darling, especially with how good you looked for me on the bed last night.” Jungkook wraps his lips around a hickey he left last night, immediately he starts sucking on it with the intention of making it darker.
You mewl softly at his words and bite your lip, “You know I don’t want anyone else,” you flutter your lashes coyly, “ ‘s the only cock I’ll ever need daddy, no one can fuck me like you do,” you lean up to whisper low and sultry in his ear, “so show them who I belong to.”
Jungkook groans at your seductive tone and hauls you up by the back of your thighs, “Ain’t I just the luckiest bastard sweetheart? What’d I do to deserve such a pretty little thing like you?” He muses while untying the bow holding your robe together.
Your robe falls apart, unveiling your tits as if they were a piece of artwork for Jungkook’s hungry eyes to feast on. He licks his lips darkly, eyes briefly flickering up to stare into your own. “Please daddy.” You softly say while spreading your legs wider, hooking your ankles together behind his strong muscular back, tugging him closer to you.
“Why should I? Thought your little french boy’s can do it better than me?” He huskily whispers, hot breath hovering over your pebbled nipple, “Will he fuck you the way I do? Have you screaming and shaking? More importantly sweetheart,” he whispers low, “will he be able to satisfy you the way I can?” He engulfs your nipple in his mouth.
You bite your lip and lean your head back while running your fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, will he?” You breathily whisper, breath hitched when Jungkook uses a hint of teeth on your sore teat. “Maybe he can, I’ll even put on a show for you daddy—so you can see how pretty I look taking someone else’s cock.”
Jungkook’s grip tightens to the point that the pressure has you squirming, “What’s the matter daddy? Thought you wanted to see how pretty I look hanging off a cock.”
“Fuckin’ minx,” he growls pulling away from your wet nipple, “that what you want? You gonna let your daddy watch someone else stuff their dick into that whore-ish cunt of yours? Is that it sweetheart? Baby wants to be a whore?” He lands a punishing smack against your ass cheek, causing it to echo loudly in the otherwise quiet bathroom.
You arch your back and whine, “For you,” you mewl softly, “only you daddy.” You finally gave in because the tension was rising and it was proving too much to handle. Jungkook didn’t give a fuck, he could play it that game—far worse too.
“Now it’s only me huh? Where’d my little whore go hm? The one who wanted to put on a show for her daddy?” He cups your chin and squeezes your cheeks together, “Hm?”
You whine again but he doesn’t let up on your suffering, “Not so bold now, huh sweetheart? Cat got your tongue baby?” He leans in, mocking your little whines in his own husky voice which immediately has you slicking up. “Why the pout?” He smirks like he isn’t the one responsible for this sweet torture.
“Because..”
“Because,” he mocks with a pout while squeezing your chin and such, waiting for a coherent answer. “Haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re a mess.”
You bite your lip at his mean tone and arch into his touch, desperately wiggling and bucking your hips just to feel— you’ll take anything at this point. Jungkook stops you with his hand and holds you still, “Look at you, humping me like a little bitch in heat.” He cruelly chuckles.
“Jungkook,” you softly sob, they’re not real tears anyways but still it’s not fair that he’s not giving you the fucking you deserve. At least a good dick sucking session would suffice but you can’t even have that. ;(
“Say it,” he reaches down to cup you through your thong, “say you’re mine sweet girl,” he purrs.
Your lips part in a small ‘o’ as his fingers breach your soaked thong, he dips them in teasingly with his fingertips brushing against your poor clit. “ ‘m yours, only yours.” You whimper softly, “Please..? Want your fingers daddy,” you wiggle around again.
Your devious husband doesn’t even warn you before he’s plunging his fingers into your sopping cunt. A breathless cry escapes and you toss your head back from the sudden burst of hot pleasure in your loins, “Mm..!”
Jungkook doesn’t even let you compose yourself before he’s curling his ring and index finger up to brush against your g-spot. He has no problem really, he knows your little cunt like the back of his hand, he’ll have you dripping in no time. “Like this? Or like this?” He suddenly stops and shifts away from your sensitive spot.
While it felt heavenly, nothing compared to Jungkook finger-fucking you into oblivion while hitting your g-spot over and over again. You find yourself panting hotly while scrambling to get a grip on his arm, “Yes..! Like that, please,” you softly cry out. You desperately roll your hips up, your pussy greedily swallowing up every inch of those thick fingers of his.
“That feel good?” He coos while tilting your face with his free hand, “Look at me sweetheart, I wanna watch you fall apart on my fingers for me like a good girl.”
You whimper when he says “good girl” it has your stomach fluttering all over again as you arch into his touch. He switches up his pace and fucks his fingers in deeper and deeper until he’s knuckle-deep inside that sopping cunt. Endless copious amounts of slick dribble down your pussy to your ass, making a real mess on that white marble counter..
“J-Jungkook..!” You breath out while digging your nails into his wrist, the pleasure was beginning to rise higher and higher, only making that little knot in your stomach tighten with each stroke.
Your husband doesn’t seem to mind you falling apart like that, in fact he speeds his pace up and rapidly fucks his fingers into your cunt. You’re literally letting out dribbles of squirt each time he fucks them back in, the pressure in your lower belly and the air around you turns hot. You find yourself shaking under his rough ministrations.
“C-Coming,” you gasp loudly, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of you.
Right as your pussy reaches that sweet abyss, Jungkook suddenly yanks his fingers out leaving your pussy gaping around nothing. You sob in frustration and let your head hit the mirror with a dull thud, “ ‘s not fair!”
Jungkook wipes his digits over your pussy before holding them up to your lips, “Suck.” He leaves no room for argument as you obediently take his fingers into your mouth and lick them clean. He watches with a dark expression, “Good girl, that’s enough. Next time you wanna play like that make sure you can handle the heat sweetheart. Cute.” He smirks evilly as he pats your cheek and heads out of the bathroom.
You bite back a groan of frustration, the edging is so going to be worth it in the long run though.. You lick your lips and hop off the counter on shaky legs, your orgasm may have been ruined but you still had a few things in your head that you wanted to try out on your dear husband.
+
“What’s wrong my love?” Jungkook asks from behind you as he gently massages your aching feet, “Is it the heels? You should’ve taken my shoes baby.” He softly mumbles.
It was nighttime by now and after a whole day of shopping and sight-seeing you were honestly ready to just hit the hay. Everytime he applied pressure on your sore tired feet, you couldn’t help the pained moan you’d let out. You were currently lying face down on the bed with your feet kicked back on Jungkook’s lap, just enjoying that foot rub.
“I’m okay, I was having too much fun to notice.” You softly reply while tilting your head to look back at him, “.. Jungkookie, I kind of had something on my mind—well it’s been in there for a good while now.” You softly admit.
“Okay,” he softly replies, ready and attentive.
You fully turn around and crawl over to sit on his lap, “What if we have another baby?” You toy with his necklace and pout, “It’s just that… Jae’s getting older and the house feels a little lonely now that he hangs out with friends and stuff..”
“So my sweetheart wants a baby?” He says with a soft look in his eye.
You timidly nod and wrap your arms around his neck, “Think about it, another mini-us running around the house like Jae used to,” you chuckle, “you remember when he was a devious devil…always getting into your office even though I told him not to,” you say fondly.
He chuckles endearingly, “Of course I remember baby, those were the best years of my life—raising him and coming home to you.”
“Soooo, that’s why I think it’d be a great idea to have another baby!” You giggle happily while smooching over his lips, “Cos you’re not gettin’ any younger, old man.” You stick your tongue out teasingly.
Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “You’ve been hanging out with Jae too much, but no, unfortunately you’re stuck with this old man.” He snorts despite not really being THAT old like his own son made him out to be.
“You’re MY old man though,” you kiss his nose gently, “and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You cheekily grin.
He brings you in for a tender kiss, laying gentle pecks over your lips until you’re whining for him to stop. “I love you sweetheart.” He murmurs softly while stroking your hair, “I’m glad you decided to stick around, don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I mean, did I really have a CHOICE?” You roll your eyes with a smile, “I’m kidding love, you know I would do it all over again for you. Nothing in the world could ever change that.” You softly say and bring him closer.
Jungkook doesn’t protest when your lips meet, he wraps his arms around your back as his eyes slip shut. The kiss itself feels magical and you can’t help but wrap your arms tighter around him in a loving embrace. You break from the kiss to catch your breath, there’s a small string of saliva that connects your lips.
“C’mere.” Jungkook mumbles and brings you back in for another sweet kiss. He slowly falls back onto the bed and brings you with him, never parting from the messy spit-slick kiss.
You and Jungkook don’t last long just kissing because you find yourself tugging on his clothes and helping him strip vice-versa. The two of you find yourselves under the warm silky sheets, and a rose-scented aroma that fills the entire room after Jungkook decides to light the candle on a whim.
The sheer intimacy of it all, you’re not in a rush this time—this time is something meaningful. You can’t really find it in yourself to come out of that little romantic bubble right now, everything just wants to make you cry. It literally makes your heart hurt over how sweet and loving Jungkook is…what did you do to deserve him?
“Hi.” You softly say when Jungkook and you come face to face after kissing for what seemed like hours.
“Hi beautiful.” He nuzzles your nose gently and presses his forehead against yours.
You blush shyly and look away, “Yah, just shut up and give me my baby already.. All that talk and no action,” you giggle, “pussy isn’t gonna breed itself.” Jungkook’s mouth drops open at what you say and it sends you reeling into explosive laughter.
“Where did my sweetheart go huh? ‘S like a little devil just popped in to say hi,” he recovers from the initial shock with a low chuckle, “you’re gonna send me to an early grave.” He groans.
You lean down to whisper in his ear, “C’mon, I know you wanna fuck me till I catch—till I’m full and round with our baby again.” You purr cupping his jawline, “Turns you on doesn’t it? Knowing damn well that’s your baby you put in me.”
He swallows harshly and nods, “Love it sweetheart, I’ll die a happy man knowing that I got to put my kids in you before any other bastard could.” He growls.
“Then get to it,” you softly coo, “or I’ll find someone else to do the job for you.”
That turns him on like a switch, he flips the two of you over and pins your arms above your head with a dark look. “Yeah? Guess I gotta show you what you’d be missing then baby,” he takes a hold of his cock and slaps the wet tip over your pussy, “gonna make sure you’re filled by the end of the night.”
You moan softly at his words and spread your legs wider, “I want it—every last drop of it daddy, want you to breed me.” You pout softly while pursing your lips for a kiss.
He kisses you like a princess but fucks you like a whore, which is what you LOVED about him. You reach down to stroke his hard cock, running your thumb over the leaky tip and over every vein on his shaft. He looks like he’s in bliss as he bites his bottom lip and watches you with hooded eyes.
“Want it in me,” you softly say while rubbing his cock through your soft squishy folds, “can I please?”
“Fuck—anything you want babydoll.”
You give him the most precious smile ever and then push his cock towards your greedy hole. You easily take the head with ease as it pops in slowly. The two of you hiss low at the pressure as Jungkook slips inch after inch into your pussy.
“More, please,” you breathlessly sigh while laying your head back on the soft pillow.
Jungkook doesn’t even think he has the strength to say no to begin with. He holds himself up over you while slowly bumping his hips into yours. His cock is utterly drenched with your slick, the slide is messy and loud whenever he bottoms out.
“Fuck,” he hisses and drops down to his elbows as he cages you in, “you feel so fucking good sweetheart.”
His balls are pressed snug, showing you that he really is taking this breeding thing seriously—more than ever now because you both have a mutual goal in mind. “It’s okay daddy,” you softly say, “I can take it.”
Jungkook pauses to look at you, damn near cursing when he sees that expression you got on your face. He hooks your thighs over his arms and folds you into a mating press with your hips tilted up, “There you go sweetheart, jus’ relax ‘n take it for me sweetheart.”
He whispers more praises under his breath while rocking into you gently. His pace doesn’t seem to stay the same because gradually he begins speeding up. Much like yesterday he really lets hell rain on your poor cunt.
You whimper and cry out while holding on with your toes curled from the pleasure. He doesn’t even bother with teasing or anything because he hits that sweet spot inside of you relentlessly. Each time he drives his cock in there’s a lewd wet smack, and the noises only get louder from there.
“T-There..! Don’t stop, please,” you whimper and grit your teeth, “feels so good..”
Jungkook huffs quietly and leans down to kiss over your bruised neck, “Yeah baby? You gonna let me fill that pussy up till you’re dripping? Gonna let me use it till I’m done?”
“Yes!” You gasp, “Anything for you,”
“For me?” He coos as he cups your chin and tilts your face to him, “Cute.” He smirks softly and continues fucking into you relentlessly.
The smacking sounds get louder and the bed creaks from force. You quite literally are seeing stars as he rocks your entire world, you can’t even form a coherent sentence let alone see through your starry vision.
“Jungkook..!” You whimper through your moans, “ ‘m gonna cum, please,” you sob as the tension begins rising, “can I, please daddy?” You whine out while gritting your teeth.
He stops to let your legs fall from his grip as he changes the pace and grabs onto your soft hips. He uses it as leverage to fuck into your cunt with repeated wet smacks. “Go on,” he grunts, “cum for me.” He spits between the two of you, right where your pussy opens up beautifully for him as he slides his thumb over your slippery clit.
Your mouth falls open when he rubs side to side in tandem with his thrusts. Your back arches and the air gets knocked out of you as you cum with intense waves of pleasure. “Jungkook,” you mewl desperately while pawing at him.
He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit until you go silent and your weak hands push at his wrist again. He growls low and rubs the sensitive bud faster until you’re drenching his lap and the sheets slick. His eyes briefly flicker up to see that you’re in bliss right now.
You feel the telltale signs of his orgasm as his cock throbs painfully inside of you. It only takes a few more pumps until Jungkook’s pressing his hips tight against you and milking every drop of his cum. His ragged moans and breathing have you getting wet all over again.
“Mm..” You tiredly let your hands flop on the bed, “I’m so sleepy..” You softly say.
Jungkook quietly grunts, “Just rest, I got you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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ribbonprincess · 1 month
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
"Do a lil twirl for me,yeah...your ass looks so good baby." Rafe chuckles,fixing his pants as they tightened around his crotch,the sight of you in a tiny white mini skirt the reason.
"You like it rafey? I bought It thinking of you" "yeah,no shit- you used my credit card" he chuckles. Moving from his spot on the bed,he walks over you,laying his hands on your hips as he squishes the skin. "You should wear it today while I go golfing,you can look pretty in the cart and if you're good enough daddy will buy you a drink."
He smiles before tilting his head down to press his lips against yours as you whine almost immediately,slapping his chest "my lipgloss! you just smeared it all over,daddy." Turning around to face the mirror as you try to deescalate the situation of your almost ruined makeup,dabbing at the area around your lips with a beauty blender.
"Yeah yeah,'s just lip gloss,it's nothing serious." Gasping dramatically you turn around,hand on your chest as if you've been shot as you point a finger at his chest "'s not just lipgloss.."
Chuckling to himself Rafe presses a kiss against your shoulder "I'm sorry cupcake, daddy's being mean yeah?" Nodding as you run your manicured fingers over his jawline,pressing your chest against his,making your tits more visible as you smile softly- a tragic contrast to your action.
꒦꒷︶°꒷︶°︶₊˚ʚɞ˚₊︶°︶꒦˚︶꒷꒦
As you sit prettily in the golf cart,sipping at your drink while watching rafe play with his friends,you can't help but feel lonely,so you decide to approach as he stands a few feet behind the others. "rayray?"
Turning around almost immediately Rafe's expression softens a bit before turning hard. "What are you doing here,told you to sit in the cart" "Yeah... I know,but I missed you" Emphasizing your words you run a hand over his chest,playing with the button of his slacks.
"Missed me huh?" Looking over his shoulder he shouts a quick "Little lady is feeling sick!" Before dragging you over the Golf cart and driving over a more secluded area of the field,covered by trees and bushes.
"Since you've been missing me sooo much,might as well show it. C'mon get on your knees" Taking one last look around you move to your knees on the moist grass,quickly unbuckling his belt as you pull down his pants and boxer just as much needed. Wrapping a hand around the base of his shaft you kiss the vein that runs on the underside of it, resulting in a harsh tug of your hair. "Don't fucking tease me."
Wrapping your lips around his tip before slowly moving down,twisting your hand around what you couldn't fit "Deeper...I've trained you better than this,kid" Rafe mumble from above you,shoving your head down until you gag harshly,tears already pooling at your lash line. "Yeah,there you go...nice and warm for me." Looking up through your clamped wispy lashes you start to move your head again,twirling your tongue around his length like a popsicle as Rafe groans from above you "Got myself the best girl,right? Sucking my dick like this where everyone can pass by"
Nodding as best as you can,you pull off him with a loud "pop". "Wanna make you feel good,daddy." Smiling to himself, Rafe wipes at your saliva coated lower lip before bringing your mouth back on him with a satisfied moan,brushing some strand of hair that have fallen over your face away. "Fuck,keep doing that and I'm gonna cum. You want daddy to cum in your mouth? Yeah,you do."
Meeting you midway as he thrust into your mouth,giving you no time to react or even understand. "shit- 'm cumming" As his rhythm gets sloppier,you suck around his tip holding onto his thigh as you feel a milky substance flood your mouth. Breathing loudly he pulls you away from him as he smirks "Show me your tongue,angel" showcasing your tongue with a proud smile you look up at him in search of praise. "good girl,what do we say now?" "thank you daddy!"
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celestie0 · 2 months
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gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]
luxury & lingerie. a retail au
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“𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐋𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭. 𝐈’𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤.”
ᰔ pairing. retail au - rolex salesman gojo x victoria's secret associate reader (f)
ᰔ summary. gojo is the rolex watch shop's pretty boy & you're the victoria's secret lingerie store's new hire that works across from him. let's just say he's determined to get inside your pants.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, porn with plot (seriously that's all it is), smut, casual sex, possibly comedic, lots of terrible flirting, tiny bit of fluff if you squint, gojo's got a daddy kink that you really have no interest in entertaining, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, blowjobs, oral sex, praise kink, some degradation, sort of cum play, banter, suguru & choso are in it too (the hot-boy sales trio)
ᰔ word count. 6.5k
a/n. hellooo this started with this concept idea i had of hot retail worker gojo who just wants to flirt with you instead of actually do his job lmfao. this was seriously just a stream of my consciousness. hope you enjoy! and thanks to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this. creds to @quinnyundertow for the sephora lipstick idea.
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The sound of Suguru’s voice was the last thing going through Gojo’s mind right now.
“Anyways, I put the car in reverse, she’s on aux. I’m thinking, she’s gotta have good taste, right? She’s the one that suggested the Maneskin concert in the first place. But you know what she starts playing? Country music. Fucking country music. And I’m not necessarily opposed to a good— dude, are you even listening?”
Choso leans over the polished display case of the mens’ latest Rolex models, staring at the two idiots in front of him. “No, he’s not. He’s been ogling the tits on that mannequin over there for the past five minutes.”
Gojo finally blinks out of his trance, irritated. “I’m not staring at the mannequin, I’m staring at—”
You. New hire. Over at the Victoria’s Secret that was across from his turf at the mall. You were standing on your tiptoes on a mini ladder, wobbling a little, reaching up for a mannequin at the display window to switch out the corny yellow sleeping mask on its face for one that was a more sleek, satin blue. 
The fabric of your uniform slid up slightly, skin of your midriff exposed, and he has to suck a breath in through his teeth.
“I called dibs on that a week ago,” Suguru says from where he stood, lazily leaning on the counter.
“No fucking way. I’ve got dibs.”
“Dibs? Really? I work with a bunch of prepubescents,” Choso groans, tipping his head back to stare up at fluorescent mall lighting.
Suguru’s voice sounds like he’s lax at the jaw. “Is anyone gonna tell her that’s the ladder they use to prop the door open, and not the one to flash Satoru’s horny ass while changing out a mannequin?” 
“I’ll be the one to tell her,” Gojo says.
At the display window, you slowly peel the panties off of the mannequin without a thought in the world to use the store’s modesty curtain, and Gojo, Suguru & Choso are all staring. And probably every other man within the store’s radius.
“Holy fuck,” Gojo says, strained.
“Holy fuck, indeed,” Suguru marvels.
“She’s clueless,” Choso sighs.
“You can have the mannequin, I get the girl,” Suguru offers, something just to get under Gojo’s skin.
“Shut up. I’m going over there.” He stands up onto his feet from the leather client chair he had been sprawled across up until this point of his shift.
“Can’t wait for you to royally fuck this up,” Choso muses with a smirk, arms crossing at his chest.
Gojo grumbles something under his breath when he hears Suguru’s coo of agreement, and then he’s making his way across to the Victoria’s Secret entrance. He unbuttons the top two buttons of his black dress shirt, as if he expects the sight of the skin at his collarbone to have you seduced like a victorian man seeing a lady’s ankle for the first time.
He makes it through the welcoming glass doors that lead into the sultry & dark ambience that you would expect of a lingerie store, and he rounds to the right, stopping a few feet away from you.
You were combing through a rack now, lips pursed in concentration until he clears his throat.
Glancing over, your shoulders tense and you pull your retail headset earpiece down, leaving it hanging by the wire that was clipped to the neckline of your shirt. His eyes flicker to the nametag pinned above the curve of your breast. You look at him with wide eyes. “Oh, hi sir. How can I help you?”
“Oh, no, I’m not a customer,” Gojo quickly corrects you, although he liked the sound of sir from your lips, “I work over there.” He points with a jerk of his chin towards the obnoxiously gaudy exterior of the Rolex watch store facing the two of you.
You blink at him. “Ah, I see.”
“You new here?” Gojo asks, taking a step forward and resting his elbow up on the metal bar of the rack just to get more into your space. “Haven’t seen you around.”
The corner of your lip turns up slightly at his words. “Why? Do you keep a roster?”
“I—no, not really,” he responds, already a little speechless, “wait, a roster of what?” He’d say he does if it’s a roster of pretty girls he’s been fantasizing about tit-fucking all day long, with you being at the top—no, the only one—on that list.
You shrug a little. It’s kind of meek and cute. “Of new hires?”
He breathes in deep. “Yes. Yes, I do. I just like to make sure the newbies feel welcome around here. Y’know, taken care of.” 
You smile, turn to face him and relax your posture. “Oh. That’s sweet. Yeah, I feel pretty welcome here, thanks.”
“That’s good.”
“I mean, everyone’s been really nice to me so far.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm, and I really like the break room on this floor. The last place I worked at didn’t have a toaster oven.”
“No way.”
“I wish the clock-in machine was easier to use though…”
“For sure.”
You glance at him suspiciously in the middle of your rant. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Cause you’re real pretty, angel.”
Your brow raises, the keys hooked to the loop of your jeans jingling as you place a curled hand to your hip. “Angel? Really? Cause of— cause of Victoria’s Secret angels?”
Gojo’s stiff, his elbow still resting on the cool metal pole, and he glances up at the ceiling before looking back down at you. “Uhh…sure? Yes.”
“That’s not very original.”
“Man, you’re really making me work hard for this. Unfortunately, that only makes me want you more.” He leans down closer to you, to catch the scent on your skin, and he can’t tell if you’re amused or annoyed from the way your cheeks round as you narrow your eyes at him.
“This is you working hard for it? You haven’t even told me your name yet, watch boy.”
He sees your fingers wrap around the cold metal bar of the rack, and he tries hard not to picture them wrapped around something else, but to no avail. You jut your hip out to bump him, pushing him out of your way, before you start rolling the rack down the store.
He trails behind you. “My name. It’s Satoru. But to you, I can be dadd-”
You stop in your tracks, turning around to face him with a scowl, but he was too distracted by the shape of your backside to be reflexive enough to stop himself in time, and he ends up crashing right into you. The momentum has you falling back with a gasp, tripping over the foot of the rack, and his arm flies around your waist to keep you upright, and then pressed up against him too just for good measure.
His face is just inches away from yours. “Shit. Sorry.”
Your arms are squished between his chest and yours, pinky tickling the skin at his collarbone, and the contact has him reeling. “I-It’s fine,” you say, lashes fluttering, “now let go of me, before I file a harassment complaint.”
He instantly retreats, releasing you, watching you stumble a bit before gaining your balance again. “God, no, please,” he sighs, “I really need this job.”
“You don’t act like it,” you mumble. You fix your hair in front of him and tuck the fabric of your shirt that came loose back into your jeans. He doesn’t have to touch your cheeks to know they feel hot, he can tell from the purse of your lips and the way you won’t make eye contact with him. 
The voices of a couple women are heard from down the aisle, as well as the plastic clinking of hangers on racks as they peruse the sheer bralettes dangling in color-coded fashion. Gojo sees you struggling to pull the rack you were working with away to the side to let them through, and he comes up behind you, gripping the metal bar to do it for you. He catches the fragrance of your hair at the crown of your head, and he inhales slowly.
The women walk by, throwing a few curious glances at the two of you, and Gojo doesn’t move from where he’s holding onto the rack and has his arm pressed against yours, his only lifeline to find some reason to touch you right now.
You start pushing the rack forward again, and he continues to follow you, keeping a more respectful following distance this time. He’s distracted by the pair of crotchless panties hung over your shoulder. He picks them up by the string. “Who the fuck actually wears these?” he asks, dangling them in front of his face and turning them around in the air to inspect it.
Your eyes are set forward for your destination. “Middle-aged women that are desperate to seduce their husbands before those men ride the high of buying a $100k watch by fucking a twenty-something-year-old instead.” You snatch the pair from his hand. “I’m rooting for those women. The men at your Rolex store? Not so much.” 
He’s on your heel until you round to a smaller section of the store, wheeling the rack over to a corner near the collection of lace panties sprinkled across cubbies under dim purple lighting. He glances over his shoulder and takes note that this area’s tucked away from the eyesights of the cash registers and storefront. 
He hears you sigh, then say “Why are you following me?”
He meanders closer to you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks. “Because…y’know, like I said, I wanna make the new hire feel settled in.”
“I literally feel so very unsettled by you right now,” you say to him with a wry expression as you start sorting through lace underwear, referencing some chart in your hand to get it right.
He walks up to you and peers over your shoulder at the illustration, and notices the way you stiffen a bit but also lean back into him. “Huh…so the cheeky panties go in the left top & bottom cubes. And they’re the ones with medium coverage and…” he squints his eyes at the chart, dim lighting doing him no favors, “and they have an alarming fit.”
You scoff through your nose. “It says alluring fit. Can you read?” 
“I— shut up. Yes I can read.”
You twirl around to face him, a hint of an amused smile to your lips. His eyes widen a bit at the sight of it, until he registers it’s a cheeky one, like those panties.
“Watch boy is illiterate. Must be why you still work in retail.”
“Yes, keep being mean to me, new hire. It’s hot,” he groans, hands still in his pockets as he leans towards you. You don’t shy away, just keep on looking up at him in this little corner he has you in, a twinkle in your pupils now that he wasn’t seeing earlier. 
He’s surprised when your finger hooks the fabric in between two of the buttons on his shirt. You play with the material, pinching it, but never tug on it. “What’s a grown ass man like yourself doing still working for commission at a mall?” 
“Okay, ouch, a little too mean,” he backtracks, watching your tongue briefly swipe across your lip, “let’s be a bit nicer.”
Now you’re tugging on the fabric, hooked finger pulling him closer to you until his hands have to fly out of his pockets and his palms press against the wall, caging you into it. “Illiterate and can’t take a dig. Pick a struggle,” you say to him with a sweet look up.
He’s getting the sense that you’re into him too. He grabs hold of your waist, thumbs rubbing your torso over the fabric of your uniform just to get a feel. “Well,” he starts, bringing your hips forward to his, pressing the erection he was building against you, “this illiterate retail worker could fuck you real good if you’d just give him the chance.”
A small gasp leaves your lips, eyes widening and you tuck your bottom lip under your teeth. Fuck, he wants to kiss you. Wants to be the one biting your lip right now. Your hand grabs his forearm, over the veins strained from his grip on you, your nails sinking into the skin left exposed by his rolled up sleeve. “It’s…It’s real well, watch boy. You’d fuck me real well.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’ll fuck you real well,” he tells you, as his head tips towards your cheek, lips brushing against it. It was just a tease, so he pulls away but still looks down at you in closeness. There’s voices around the corner, but he doesn’t really care.
“You’re awfully forward,” you breathe out, and he almost goes insane at the soft whimper that leaves your lips when he can’t help but jerk his hips forward a bit. 
“Y’know what? Fuck it,” he grumbles, pulling the rack across behind him so he’s created a covered haven for the two of you against this wall, and then he kisses you.
There’s a yelp that he muffles from you as his lips move against yours, slow, because you're new to him and he wants to savor it. His hand finds the small of your back, spreads across it, pushing you to arch towards him, and his teeth catch your bottom lip when he feels your breasts press against him. You’re pliant, opening your mouth for him, and he takes up the offer to taste you. Soft & warm pressed up against him, a subtle sweetness on your tongue, and he only pulls away because you squeeze his shoulder hard.
You’re breathing fast, cheeks shy, a little cutely cross-eyed from his proximity when you look up at him. “I-…okay, I’m a little mad that you’re a good kisser.”
He hums, tip of his nose brushing against yours slightly and you grip the collar of his shirt to keep him close. “I’ll kiss you nice in a lot of other places too.”
It doesn’t really take much convincing after that.
“Oh…oh my god—,” you mewl, back against the mirror of one of this fine lingerie establishment’s fitting room stalls, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks you raw with the aim to please.
“Shit, knew you’d be tight,” he groans, pressing a kiss to your jaw when you tip your head back in pleasure, throat loose with a moan, “pretty little new hire. Just had to break you in.”
“S-Satoru,” you moan through a breath, the sound of his name on your tongue having his cock twitch inside your walls, mixed with the pain of the grip you had on the hair at the back of his head. 
He has your shirt bunched up along with your bra, tits exposed for him. His head dips to pull a nipple through his teeth as he feeds you with a few slow, deep thrusts, and his eye catches the earpiece of your headset, still clipped to your shirt, bouncing around with every one of his movements inside you. “Really hope that thing’s off,” he mumbles against your skin, “but if it excites you to have it on, I—fuck, I wouldn’t really mind either way.”
Your hand flies to his bicep when he runs his thumb over your clit, legs wrapping around him even tighter. “More. Need more,” you say, head in a haze, and he really could’ve cum inside you right then and there but he holds out to enjoy some more time buried in the warm pleasure of your cunt.
“If you want something from me,” he grunts between thrusts, “you’re gonna have to beg me for it, love.”
“Fuck me harder,” you cry, eyes shut closed, and he almost feels sorry for you.
“That’s a demand,” he informs, pinching the flesh of your ass and enjoying the way you clench around him from the action, “I told you to beg.”
“Please, oh my god, please—,” you start, moving your hips against his now, and he hears the lewd sound of your flesh slapping more fervently against the mirror. “Please fuck me harder.”
“Good girl. Pretty girl,” he praises you, thumb finding your clit again as a reward, “see what you get for being so nice to me now.”
He bucks his hips harder, your arms wrapping around his neck in desperation, chin resting at the top of his head as his lips fall to your neck, and he kisses, nibbles, sucks, anything to get that sweet taste in his mouth while he draws stars over your sensitive bud, eliciting broken whimpers from you over and over again. 
“Gonna let me cum inside?” he asks, feeling his balls jump at just the thought of filling you up, his thighs feeling hot from the anticipation of you giving him the permission. “All that shit talk earlier about me being a dumb mall worker, but you’d still let me finish in you, right?” His hips stutter slightly, vision starting to blur, and he feels your walls flutter tightly too, “cause I bet it turns you on that you’re letting this dumb retail man fuck you senseless in a flimsy little fitting room right now, regardless.”
“Satoru, please,” you’re begging, the crack in your voice hoarse like you’re about to cry from the pleasure.
“Answer me,” he demands, retreating the thumb that was toying with your clit. He pulls one of your arms from where it was wrapped around his neck to pin your wrist to the mirror. “You want me to cum inside you or not?” 
Your hips press so harshly against his that he hardly has any leeway to thrust anymore, and it makes him hiss in protest, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass to let up. “I want—mhh, I want you to cum inside me, please, please,” you plead, desperate, grinding your clit against the skin above his cock, above the place he was buried to the hilt inside of you.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, the sweet words processing in his head, and he loses all sense of control, motions eager and desperate, chasing after his high and his thumb is barely considerate enough to chase after yours too as it rubs relentlessly over your puffed up clit. You shiver against him, walls clenching around his cock impossibly tight, legs wrapping around his waist possibly even tighter, and he feels every nerve as you come undone around him. The gripping sensation your orgasm had on him has him faltering with harsh thrusts forward, and he holds your hips flush to his as the first spurt of his cum spills into you, followed by more with repetitive juts of his hips until he’s emptied himself entirely into you, and you’re just pumped full of him.
You swat at his chest, squirming as he leaks the last drop from the tip of his dick, and he can tell you’re overstimulated.
“Sorry,” he says through a short exhale, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, and he slowly pulls out of you, cock falling limp over his thigh, and he holds you until you find footing on the ground, albeit a bit wobbly. 
“Oh no,” you mewl, clenching your thighs together when you feel his cum starting to drip out, and he quickly bends down to hook your panties up back into place. You give him a pointed look. 
“What? The easiest clean-up is not letting it out,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him so he gets to feel the plushness of your bare breasts against him and he kisses the top of your head. “You’re real good, new hire. Or whatever the fucking proper way to say it is.”
He can tell you’re rolling your eyes even though your face is buried in his chest.
“You’re a dumbass,” you say, sounding muffled.
Gojo spends about 90% of his shifts meandering across the shimmering tile floors of the mall to the Victoria’s Secret, and only spends about 10% of them actually being a watch salesman. His boss was starting to get real fuckin’ fed up with him, threatening to fire him yesterday for the two-hour lunch break he took because he was eating you out in a storage closet, but he really couldn’t be bothered to care. He was an addict, and he needed to get his fix. Not before annoying the shit out of you, though.
“Alright, daddy’s home. Let’s get to it. I’m on my lunch break,” he says, walking right up to you in the middle of your shift while you’re folding slip dresses onto a display table, his hand reaching for your waist but you retreat from him.
“For that, get the fuck away from me.”
He sighs. “I’ve been wanting to touch you all day long. Do you purposefully walk your gorgeous self across the front of the store that many times just to tease the hell out of me? I’m suffering.”
“I walk across the storefront because I’m doing my job,” you mumble to him.
“No, I swear, you do it to—”
“Sweets,” one of your coworkers calls out to you from the other end of the store, the one with a pink buzzcut that acts kinda scary. “Is that man bothering you?” she asks through a smack of her gum, “want me to call security?”
“Yes.”
“What—”
After a couple of minutes of vindicating himself to mall security that he is not a threat to public safety, which you watch in amusement with no help at all, he’s shortly back at your side in a different section of the store to annoy you.
“When are you gonna wear one of these for me?” he asks, holding up a pair of jaguar-print panties. 
“Never,” you say to him, scanning the tags on the underwear in a box of new arrivals, “those are ugly.”
“Okay, how about these,” he says, pulling a pair out of the box. “They’re see-through. I like that.”
“No,” you say, snatching it out of his hand.
“Oh c’mon,” he groans, doing a quick glance over his shoulder to check if the coast is clear before taking a step forward, pulling you to him by a finger hooked through the belt hoop of your jeans. “I’ll buy them for you. Ring me up.”
You look up at him, hand placed on his chest but you weren’t pushing him away just yet. “Really? You’re gonna buy me panties from the store I literally work at? At least have the decency to shoplift them for me.”
He has a smile on his face when he leans down closer to you, both hands now playing with the loops of your jeans. “Ohhh you’re into criminals. Will you tackle me to the ground if I do?”
“Yes, to arrest you. Not to fuck you.”
“Why not both?”
“Satoru,” you chastise him when you hear footsteps around the corner, and now you’re pushing him away and clearing your throat before busying yourself with the box again as a few customers walk by. Gojo shoves his hands in his pockets, and then his eyes widen a bit when his knuckles hit something.
“Oh yeah,” he says, “I got you this.” He pulls out a small, shimmering black tube and holds it out to you with an up facing palm. 
You lean forward to glance at it. “Is that…lipstick?”
“Yeah,” he says, “the lady outside Sephora was giving out samples.”
You cross your arms at your chest. “The lady outside Sephora was giving out free samples of lipstick to you?”
“Can you just take it already? My arm’s starting to hurt.”
You swipe it from him and inspect it. Popping the cap open, you twist the cheap plastic adjuster so that the tip of the wax peaks out. It was a deep shade of red. “Did she try to talk to you?”
“Uhh, yeah. Something about how this new formula is smudge-proof or something. Was hoping we could test that out.”
You roll your eyes. “She probably wanted to test that out. With you.”
“What, are you jealous?” 
“Not really, no,” you say and hand the lipstick back to him. He looks at you puzzled. “Lipstick isn’t really for me, sorry.” 
“I literally saw you wear some the other day. That’s what gave me the idea,” he says, “of turning my dick into the shade of your lipstick.”
“Could you be any louder?” you hiss at him, glancing at a coworker who could’ve potentially been in earshot.
He shrugs and pinches the tube of lipstick between two of his fingers, holding it up between the two of you. “You sure you don’t wanna?”
Turns out you were not too opposed to the idea, but he had to earn it by making you cum a couple times in the janitor’s closet at the end of the floor. He likes having to earn the sight of you on your knees, it turned him on way more than he had expected.
“My jaw is so fucking sore,” he complains, opening and closing his mouth a few times to stretch it out, then runs a hand across his jawline. “You were a lot less sensitive today. Took way longer.”
“Maybe you’re just not as good as you think you are,” you say, pulling the buckle of his belt loose, sitting back down onto your heels to get more comfortable while you undress him.
“Bullshit. Should’ve used that insult maybe the first or second time I gave you head. It’s too late now, after the filthy things you’ve said to me in your desperation to cum.”
He watches you flutter your lashes a few times, fingers stopping their movements, and you shift a little from where you were seated on the ground. You were aroused, but still committed to the attitude. “I don’t have to do this for you, you know.”
He shudders a little. “Wait, you seriously don’t want to? You don’t have to.”
You sigh. “You were supposed to demand me to do it anyways. Would’ve been hot.” You pull his belt loose and your thumb and index finger pinch the button open with ease. “You don’t wanna fuck me, though?”
“Of course I want to fuck you, I will always want to fuck you. But the last time we got rowdy in here, I almost killed you when I knocked the shelf over.” A chill runs down his spine. “Not taking any more chances.”
You giggle a little at the memory while zipping down the front, then your fingers dig into the fabric of both his slacks and his boxers, pulling them down until he’s sprung free, fully thick and hard, courtesy of the cute sounds you were making earlier while his tongue was playing with your clit.
“Are you not gonna put the lipstick on?” he asks.
“No.” You grab a hold of him mid-way, giving an experimental tug, and raise from your seated position onto your knees. 
“But—”
“I told you, lipstick isn’t my style,” you say, eyes flickering up to him when you kiss the tip. He sucks a breath in.
“Damn, okay. I was genuinely curious if it was smudge proof. The lady was really hyping it up,” he says and he sees your shoulders drop.
“Enough of the Sephora lady,” you mumble, pressing your lips against his tip again, but as less of a kiss.
There’s a sulk in your posture from where you look up at him on your knees. His heart does this weird thing where it aches a little, and he wants to get rid of the pout on your face with a few sweet words, but he settles for pushing the tip of his cock past your lips instead. Works all the same in the end. “Good girl,” he groans when you take him all the way to the back of your throat, and your fingernails dig into the skin of his thigh as you let out a muffled moan.
“Fuck…” He pulls his hips back slightly, allowing you to adjust, but when you swallow and his tip feels the roll of those muscles, he’s pushing into your mouth again. “C-Can you take more?”
You try your best to give him a nod and you bob your head once, tongue swiping over the vein that was throbbing the proof of his need for you right now. 
“I’ll finish fast, baby,” he tells you, voice husky, fingers combing through your hair gently, “just take it how I want it, and I promise I’ll be quick, okay?”
You nod again, thumb rubbing the skin near his groin in reassurance. You squirm a little and press your thighs together when he grips your hair tighter now, encouraging your head to bob up and down on him, and you do as he wants. Your cheeks hollow out, sucking on him, and he swears he’s already close to cumming.
“Yeah…fuck, yeah,” he grunts under his breath, “good. Just—just like that. You’re so good. Pretty girl,” he juts his hips forward to see if you can take it, and you do, “on her knees for me.”
Your throat vibrates with a moan, and he sees you squirm even more. You take him all the way in, to a place deeper than the back of your throat, so well without a gag but there’s a prickle of tears in your eyes, and he rubs your cheek softly while he feels the sweat collect at his temple. “Oh fuck, I’m— shit, baby. I’m close.”
You drag your lips across his length, retreating with a thorough hollow to your cheeks, and release him with a pop and your tongue stuck out connecting a string of your spit to his tip. Your hand immediately starts to rub him up and down as you look up, and the soft panting leaving your lips and fanning across his cock has him swallowing hard. “S-Sorry, needed a break.”
“That’s okay,” he says, swiping at some of the saliva pooled at the corner of your lip. “Take your time.”
You kiss his tip in acknowledgment, then take him in again, this time both hands working at the base as you bob up and down, more free with your moans and the sensation of them reverberating in the canal of your throat makes him grip your hair with both hands, desperate.
“Yes—fuck, yes,” he grunts, head tipping back and hitting the door. “Real close. Your mouth feels so good, you’re driving me insane.”
You suck on him, hard, taking him in to his favorite place that’s at the back of your throat, and when your hand reaches out to play with his balls, paired with the sensation of fast exhales through your nose onto the skin of his groin, his eyes close shut and strained and he’s jerking his hips forward to spill his cum down your throat. “Fuuuuck. Oh my god.” He exhales, watching you swallow over and over again as he pumps into your mouth, then he slowly pulls out when he feels that he’s done.
You sit back down on your heels, hands now neatly folded on your lap, looking up at him and his thumb prods at your bottom lip for you to open your mouth. You do as he wants, tongue hanging out in the process, and he sighs in satisfaction when he sees you’ve swallowed it all. “Beautiful, baby. Come here.”
With a hand wrapped around your arm, he gets you up on your feet and kisses you. You hold onto the fabric of his shirt for purchase, and he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. “Doing okay?”
“Mhm,” you nod, tightening your grip on his shirt, “I liked it. Liked it when you said I was good.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead. “More than good, angel. You’re perfect.”
“C’mon, it’ll be fun. You look like you could use a break,” Gojo says to you in Victoria’s Secret on a random Saturday morning. He usually always works on Saturday, but he’s never seen you here on a Saturday before. Apparently you were picking up extra shifts since you were going on vacation next week, something about a wedding in Spain. But you’d worked six consecutive shifts in a row, and the exhaustion was starting to show.
“I don’t know…your store scares me,” you respond back to him. You were behind the register, and he was pretending to buy forty-two pairs of panties just to talk to you.
“It’s not scary. I just want to show you around,” he says, standing up straight from where he had been leaning over the counter.
You eventually give in, toying with your name badge as you make your way around the counter to him, eyeing the smile on his face before he leads you through the aisles and eventually across the mall to the Rolex watch store.
It wasn’t horribly busy for a weekend, but there were still a few clients around. Choso was helping out a regular, a man who has bought four $200k watches within the past two months, and Choso’s been biting his nails worried he’s going to have to play witness in a tax evasion court case should that client eventually get caught by the IRS for fraud one of these days.
Suguru comes around the corner the second he sees you walk through the polished glass doors, and Gojo’s already annoyed.
“Hey, it’s the new hire,” he greets you, stretching his hand out and you accept it in a shake. “I’m Suguru.”
“Not really new here anymore,” you say to him after introducing yourself, “been here for a couple months now.”
“Oh really? Time flies. Thanks for all the shows, by the way,” he jerks his head off to the Victoria’s Secret store, “I’ve enjoyed watching the 101 ways you can remove a bra on a mannequin. Might have to incorporate some of them into my personal life.”
Gojo scoffs. “Yeah right, like a woman would let you within a hundred feet of her bra.”
Suguru raises an eyebrow with a sleazy smirk on his face, before leaning closer to you. “Should we prove him wrong about that, darling?”
Gojo hates the way he sees you blink your lashes at him and blush, so he’s grabbing your hand and walking you across the store, away from Suguru. He circles you around to the back near one of the display counters. Ladies’ new Datejust models, pretty classy and feminine. He walks to behind the counter, with you staying on the other side, like you were a genuine sale.
“See anything you like?” he asks, resting his elbow on the glass and peering down through it.
You blink at him. “Uh…of Rolex watches?”
“Yeah.”
“Mm…” you press your index finger to your chin and glance at a few. “I like that one.” You point with that same finger and he follows the line with his eyes.
“Hm,” he says, using his key to unlock the case, then slides the opening to the side to gently pull the watch out. “Oystersteel and yellow gold, 18 karat. Wanna try it on?”
“Sure.”
He releases the safety clasp, pulling apart the band, and slides it through your hand down to your wrist, then fastens the clasp until he hears a click. You immediately raise your wrist up into the air, twisting it to assess, and there’s a sparkle in your eyes.
“How much is it?” you ask.
“Thirty.”
“Thirty-what?”
“Thirty-thousand.”
Your jaw drops. “Oh my god. Get this thing off of me.”
He laughs and his hands find the clasp at your wrist, unfastening it and you’re trembling a bit as you shake it off before he catches it in his palm. “Not my fault you literally chose one of the most expensive watches we have in this section.”
“This is insane. How do people afford any of these?” you ask, feet wandering and now you’re clearly curious as you inspect the cases.
“We have more affordable watches available for lingerie store workers,” he tells you, clicking his tongue to get your attention and you turn around then follow him to the other end of the counter. He points at the glass. “These are all under three-thousand.”
“Oh…” you peer at them with interest, and he watches you. His eyes fall to your wrist.
“Here,” he says, sliding the display case door open, and pulls out another watch, “I think you’d look nice in this.”
He shows it to you for a second before releasing the clasp and holding onto your hand to slide the watch through it. After fastening it, he looks up at your expression, and his heart’s beating a bit faster. You turn your wrist in the air to marvel at the watch, and he thinks your eyes look stunning from the way the shimmer of the watch reflects off of them.
“Wow,” you say.
“I knew you’d look good in anything rose gold,” he says, both elbows on the counter as he watches you, “this one’s only a couple thousand.”
You’re still a little speechless as you look at it, right index finger tracing the dial. He wants to buy it for you. He could, it’s not much of an issue, he’d just have to kiss goodbye to that used gaming PC he’s been eyeing on craigslist for the past couple of months, but something in his gut tells him it’d be worth it. Something in the soft look in your eyes right now tells him it’d be worth it.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, his voice quiet.
“That it’s beautiful,” you say to him, swallowing and then extending your wrist out to him. “Sorry, wearing it for too long. Probably lost a few hundred bucks in value just from the two minutes it was on my wrist.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll buy it for you.”
Your mouth gapes. “W-What?”
“I mean—if you actually like it. Then, I don’t mind,” he says, suddenly a bit flustered.
“Satoru. That’s insane. This is a two-thousand dollar watch.”
He shrugs. “I know, but it looks good on you. I can’t shoplift this one for you, though. But I’ll buy it if you actually want it. And if you lie and say you don’t like it, just to be nice, I’ll read right through it. So be honest.”
“I…” you start, “I really can’t accept that.”
His eyes are level with yours, and something about your persistence in your refusal just makes him want to buy it for you even more. But he’s not gonna push it anymore. He’ll just try to work towards a day where you’ll accept it from him. Where it won’t even be a question to want to decorate you in something as pretty as you are.
“Alright. Then give it back, it’s probably only worth a couple hundred now.”
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a/n. hope you enjoyed!! this was fun to write. it was supposed to be longer but i cut it short so maybe part two lol?? i also wanna write versions for choso & suguru in this au lol maybe like a multi in one verse kinda thing haha i like the idea of a hot watch salesman trio. thank you for reading 💕
taglist: @ohsehuniiee @lost-resonance @whereflowerswenttodie @horisdope @therealestpussyeater @satorminniett @tobaccosunbxrst @alekssashka7 @ritsatoru @angrychinchillanoises @shleepyking @crimsonmarabou @mxlktae @bloopsstuff @slut-4-gojo @lil-cinn @wateronlyhaha @strawberiicreme @wintertoru @mo0nforme @whispersofbeskar @who-can-touch-my-boob @quinnyundertow @ramluvr @anthastudios @sabokunsmalia @ninjaturtletoes @rylierev @dvarlinggg @heyitsmirae @sleepyyammy @lofasofabread @lolthatsnice @tetsuski @bakuhoethotski @sureconfused
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jyoongim · 1 month
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i came across this reel and my immediate thought was "lucifer finding out alastor wanted to date his daughter" (not charlie ofcccc)
Morningstar!Reader x Alastor
>i switched it up a bit so it’ll be Lucidaddy finding out Alastor is dating his baby<
————————————————————————————-
“Just play it cool sis. Its just dad” you tried to reassure your sister, Charlie who was sweating profusely. You grabbed her hand and gave her a smile which made the older girl calm down a bit.
”Youre right! Its just dad…hahaha”
Vaggie had suggested that since the hotel wasn’t going like planned that Charlie should call y’all father. 
Who just happened to be the King of Hell itself.
Charlie shot it down, but you knew that your dad could help relieve some of the stress off the both of you.
So you had everyone in the hotel cleanup and promise they would be on their best behavior.
especially your boyfriend.
”Just be your charming self without the sarcasm please” You pouted up at the tall demon, who sported a smile as he hummed in acknowledgment at your words.
You were nervous to introduce Alastor to your father. You didn’t really have much experience with dating and the relationship between the two of you was as good as it was between him and your sister (slightly better because you’re his baby). You just wanted everything to be smooth enough to slip that you were dating someone.
Surely nothing could go wrong right?
——————————————————————
“Hi dad wel-OH!” Charlie wheezed as Lucifer pulled her into a big hug, squeezing the air out her lungs
”Charlieeee!” He gushed before his eyes caught yours.
You tried to avoid the bone-crushing hug, but your father was too fast; pulling you in as well.
”Oooh my girls how I’ve missed you!”
You missed how Alastor’s eye twitched.
You and Charlie squirmed out of his grasp, trying to regain your composures as you sucked air back into your lungs.
Charlie cleared her throat “Dad welcome to the Hazbin Hotel” she gave a wobbly smile as she showed the last minute decorated lobby.
She introduced all the residents so far and just as she was continue showing him around, Lucifer looked at the bar
”Oh! What in the unholy hell is that?” He looked to you
”babygirl tell me you didn’t approve of that?”
Before you could say anything, Alastor manifested by your side.
”I thought it adds a bit of color, don’t you think?” His smile was big, showing off his teeth.
Your dad grimaced, looking from Charlie to you to Alastor “who-who what are you the bellhop?” he asked.
Alastor laughed “haha! Oh no! I am the host of the hotel. Maybe you’ve heard my radio broadcast?”
Lucifer deadpanned “nope. Maybe that’s why the girls call it the ‘Hazbin hotel ahaha”
you and Charlie winced.
Alastor narrowed his eyes “It was actually my idea.”
”Oh? Well it wasn’t every clever” Lucifer challenged, making Alastor bend to his level ”Ahaha Fuck you” Alastor hissed.
You and Charlie got between the two, you frowning at Alastor, slapping his chest, while Charlie tried to distract dad.
”OoohOk! Dad Alastor here has been a big help.” She said trying to paint the Overlord in a more positive light. She looked at you as if to help plead her case.
”She’s right dad” you said with a smile “Without Alastor I don’t know how we would have gotten this far” you looked at the red demon smiling “he’s been good to us”
That was true. You have no idea where the hotel would be without Alastor’s help.
“These two lovely ladies have such optimistic hearts. I am more than happy to fulfill any desire they have” Alastor said, smiling down at you, wrapping an arm around you, pulling into his side.
Your father narrowed his eyes at the actions and growled lowly.
”uuuh huuuhh. Well-” he slapped Alastor’s arm with his cane and guided you and Charlie to the other guests to be introduced.
”how about you introduce me to your OTHER friends?”
When Charlie introduced Vaggie, you felt your stomach ball in a knot. “Oh you like girls THANK goodness!ahaha” Lucifer’s eyes caught yours, a nervous smile of his face “don’t tell me my baby is in a relationship as well?” Oh what a hopeful look he had.
You looked at Charlie, who gave you an encouraging nod, you cleared your throat, straightening up
”o-oh well about that…” you nervously laughed, looking down as you wring your hands.
A large hand grabbed yours to ease your nervous antic, and instead intertwined your fingers together. You look up to see Alastor standing behind you and bringing your interlocked hands to his lips and press them to the back of your hand. He smiled at you softly as he wrapped his other arm around you.
You looked over to see the King of Hell looking like he’s going to be sick. 
“Dad…Alastor isn’t just the host of the hotel…he’s also my boyfriend” you said smiling at your dad.
Lucifer went to say something, but your sister stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder “Dad she’s happy and i know Alastor looks like he’s up to no good which most of the time he isn’t   But he actually makes her really happy. Look”
The short king watched as the tall red demon gave you a squeeze, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead and nuzzle you. He saw how Alastor looked at you with complete devotion, while you looked at him with love in your eyes.
He sighed, bringing your attention back to him. He held out his hand, a tight smile on his face “nice to meet you”
Alastor grinned and shook his hand…before wiping it like it was the most repulsive thing “pleasure to meet you sir!”
You sighed a breath of relief. That wasn’t so bad.
”Tell me…you haven’t slept with my daughter have you?”
”DAD!”
”DAD!”
”what?! I can ask that!?”
”Your youngest has an insatiable sexual appetite”
”AL!”
”SAY WHAT!?”
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kingsandbastardz · 3 months
Text
So for basically my whole life I'd grown up with and was resigned to accept that the chinese concept of formal/nice clothing of my and the previous generation has been western clothes. So at any awards ceremonies or performances, entertainers would show up mostly in western suits/dresses and maaaaaybe you'll spot the occasional cheongsam if they're going for a Wong Fei Hong vibe. Which, you know, kinda sucks if you have any concept of western cultural imperialism in asia.
So when the hanfu revivalist movement started, I was waiting to see when it would enter the mainstream -- my hope was for fashion designers to integrate traditional/dynastic elements into their work and make it common place enough that I can buy this shit online for ME. Because I WANT.
Though some of the designs can be a bit hit or miss, I am LOVING what various stars and entertainers are wearing out and about now.
Anyway - here's a collection of Xiao Shunyao's modern hanfu inspired/hybridized stage outfits from the last couple years. For his MLC performances, his stylists seem to be borrowing inspiration from his Di Feisheng and possibly other character costume silhouettes.
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I'd been seeing a few comments about how his outfits play with gender - and some of his outfits do! But I think the interesting thing to discuss is from which standard is he playing with gender? Because from a western perspective, the things he does with his western suit tops, belting on top of the jacket for a tightly cinched waist, and the addition of a trailing skirt = femme. But if you're talking from a hanfu-hybridized pov, that's just a modern take on hanfu and having any of those elements is not inherently femme and would often read masc to me.
So these things aren't necessarily gendered because they exist traditionally in chinese men's clothing or costume designs (ie video games, comics, historical fiction illustrations and film, etc, so therefore in the modern lexicon of masculine/acceptable for men):
presence or lack of a skirt
silky, velvety, gauzy or sparkly material choice, esp in formal or stage clothing
short or long length of skirt
embroidery
flowers/floral/bird designs
folding fans
certain styles of makeup
beading, gold, tassels, jewels
non-chunky jewelry
headbands
widely flowing silhouettes
What XSY's stylists are doing with some western clothing items are interesting. I'm convinced there have been one or two western jacket tops made of thinner material that they're folding over the front, and belting down instead of buttoning (which then matches with his other outfits that are designed specifically to do this). Then they're adding a skirt, cloak or bracer element to it.
The western portions often bring a military minimalist feel which they balance with a more gauzy material in the skirt or cloak portions.
Things I think are playing with gender:
row 1 - image 1: red di feisheng-inspired outfit
The lace-up girdle is there to match the bracers in both material and style. And it's positioned to be similar to the heavy belt that Di Feisheng wears. HOWEVER. That style of girdle/corset-like clothing item can't be divorced from the modern idea of sexy leather corsets. So imo, this waist piece on that outfit was a choice. Especially when paired with his allergic-to-collars-higher-than-his-sternum necklines. And if you take into context how masculine yet female coded his character is in the drama, the whole look evokes that.
row 2, image 1: black western suit with belt on top, hat, cloak, black boots and not-visible but also a black tassel fringe skirt
Hat and cloak moves the intention of the outfit from western toward a more Asian slant, because alone, it looks like a western black suit with western heeled boots, cinched waist with a lady's belt (seated photoshoot) and western style tassel skirt. The suit top consists of a vest and a shrug-like sleeve portion that appears masculine at first glance. But take the shrug and pair it with the tassel skirt (I can't find the red carpet photos but here is a better view of the skirt when seated), and I think you got a look that's both intentionally edging toward the femme in a western sense but also confusing matters by hiding within the parameters of both western and chinese traditional male styling.
row 2 - image 2 : white asymetrical western jacket styled in a front fold-over style, gauze skirt, trailing pearl embellishments
The more traditional leaning version of this is the white outfit in row 3 that he wears to the Hi6 Hello Saturday variety show -- the skirt portion on that outfit is one I'd consider non-gendered. Row 1, images 2 and 3 are examples of masculine/neutral uses of gauze that plays with flow of form but isn't inherently femme. This stage outfit is very western-appearing masculine suiting, until you hit the skirt which is giving me long ballerina tie-on skirt with the additional swan/mermaid pearl strings. Imo, another example of deliberately using traditional masculine styling but switching it up with the combination of material choice and make that is feminine.
row 2, image 3: black space military boots, black suiting, black -silver ombre sequin trailing skirt and white gauzy shawl with black floral design
The over all design is going for a masculine military-feel. (think this outfit for shen langhun) But instead of a thicker military cloak, it's replaced with a woman's gauze shawl and a skirt that trails behind him very much like the back of a woman's formal fish-tail gown when he moves around. If you take into context Wang Herun's outfit is a white-silver sequined dress cut in a way to also give a space-military-queen vibe, imo they both coordinated their outfits to balance out with both femme and masc qualities.
Thoughts? I'm curious what others think about this.
While I wait for the CNY photoshoot for XSY's red and black look, here's him with his stage collaborators with a nice range of skirt lengths, period influences and material choices. The woman in the center is the one with the most military-fighter design out of the bunch. The dudes are all in variations of formal-wear-with-good-kicking-boots (and lots of crotch space).
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cherry-leclerc · 4 months
Text
close call ☆ cs55
genre: smut, humor, established relationship
word count: 1.8k
After a tough season, you and Carlos want nothing more than to unwind. Though, what you have in mind is known for not always having the best outcome.
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+... shower sex, fingering
req!... sorry that it took me so long to post! school sucks :(
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“Glad that shit show is finally over.”
Charles lets out a loud laugh as he throws his head back, shooting out a quick goodbye. Your boyfriend clumsily swings his arm over your shoulder as you both slowly make your way over to his car. Post-season testing was officially over and now came what you were both looking forward to.
Doing absolutely nothing.
“What should we do now?”
Tapping a finger against your glossy lips, you look up at the sky, trying to come up with an idea. Abu Dhabi was beautiful; there had to be a lot to do. Shimming away from his embrace, you turn to face Carlos. “We should go jet skiing!” His smile drops.
“No way.”
You stick your tongue out as you smack his toned chest. “But it was so much fun last time we went! Oh! Don’t you remember, Carlos?” The way your eyes shine with the memory makes him almost fall for it. But alas, he stood his ground.
“You flew right off the jet and almost died. That was fun to you?” He opens the passenger door. “Because it wasn’t for me.” Slamming it shut, he walks around the car, leaving you to slump into the Ferrari seat.
“I almost touched the clouds,” you try as he clicks his tongue, large hands maneuvering the wheel to reverse out of the parking lot. More like you almost met God. You groan as you turn your music up and roll the window down. You know how much he hated not being able to hear you and talk to you. Or how he hated not being able to see your pretty face when the wind makes your hair fly all over the place. Can you please stop? Bobbing your head up and down to the beat, you look out at the scenery. 
“You’re being a brat-”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean - you’re being an angel!” He pulls his phone out before handing it over to you carefully, as if you would bite his head off at any moment. “Go ahead and pull up the directions, preciosa.”
As soon as he parks on the beach, you hop out, giddy with excitement. His hands flies up to fix his sunglasses that were beginning to slide down his nose. He squints at the bright sun. We don’t have the proper attire. Silently, you grab the keys from him as you open the trunk. Neatly, inside a tote bag, is your bikini and his swim trunks. He chews the inside of his cheek. Of course, he mutters as you take his hand and drag him along.
“I know you!” With a firm smile, the Spaniard waves at the older lady. Hello. Rushing past him, she waddles her way over to you. Despite being confused, you still let out a bright smile. Scanning you up and down, she nods excitedly. “I knew it was you!”
Growing a bit protective over this weird encounter, Carlos stands in front of you and forces a polite grin. And it’s almost as if you have no idea over the concept of danger because you just run around him and start introducing yourself. He shakes his head in disapproval, floppy brown hair following.
“I’m Tori! I was your instructor last time you were here! I could never forget someone so pretty.” She turns her attention over to the tall Spaniard. “She almost died on my watch, too. I thought you were about to throw a lawsuit on me.”
“I would have-”
“He’s kidding!” You lean in to hug her as if you're a long lost sister. He makes sure to hold onto the back of your skirt, ready to fling you back. Just in case. “What do you say we just forget about any of that, Tori? I wanna get on the jet ski.”
“Long forgotten! Let’s go.”
Carlos is left with his jaw on the floor as he glares at you both skipping away together. 
“Nos vamos a morir.”
-
“I’m breaking up with you.”
“No. You’re not.”
You narrow your eyes at Carlos as you cross your arms in frustration. He doesn’t even bat an eye at your actions; let alone your words. “I will if you continue threatening me.” Turning to face Tori, who stands next to the white jet ski, you raise your hands up in alarm. “He’s threatening me, Victoria.”
“Por favor…” He rolls his brown eyes. “I’m only doing this because I love you. And because I want us to live a long and happy life together. Have a kid or two?”
“This won’t be the end of the world! I just want to drive it.” 
Pressing a quick peck on your pink lips, he shakes his head. “Not this time.”
With a grumpy attitude and a deep frown, you eventually oblige. Taking you by the hand, he helps you take a seat behind him as he reaches out for the keys. Tori smiles. Just ignite it and off you go! Enjoy the ride.
-
“Mierda,” he gasps as he resurfaces from the water. Treading to keep afloat, he turns his head with urgency to find you. His heavy pants are the only thing being heard as he slowly loses his mind. Feeling something tickle his lower calf, he yelps as he lets out a strong kick against the tides. Poking your head out from underneath the blue waves, you choke on salt water. 
“Asshole! You kicked my face!”
“I didn’t know that was you!”
Brushing long strands of wet hair off your eyes, you muster a dirty look. A large smile hugs his lips. “And you said I drive bad…What happened to being an F1 driver?” 
Regardless of you pouting over his shoulder, you had eventually found yourself enjoying gliding through the waves. You could’ve sworn you saw a mermaid, too. Though, you can’t exactly pinpoint the moment your boyfriend lost control and sent you two flying. 
He gapes before rubbing his hand against his jaw . You shudder. “I drive cars for a living, not jet skis…” You let out a teasing smile. Whatever you say, mi amor.
After your rescue from Tori and the crew, you both agreed to call it a day and just head back to your hotel. Except now, you wouldn’t let the story die.
“He was like, ‘I’ll keep you safe, baby. Don’t you worry, baby.’ He didn’t even last 5 minutes!” Folding over, you twirl all over the bed as you laugh; a frowning Spaniard holding the phone out. Lando cackles loudly from the other side of the FaceTime call. 
“And he said you’re the bad driver.”
Jumping up, you nod profusely. “My fucking point!” The brunette briskly ends the call before tossing the phone onto the counter. I think that’s enough, don’t you think? You bite back a much needed smile as you shrug. “I’m gonna go take a quick shower, old man.” 
Carlos would like to say that his ego wasn’t hurt, but that would be a complete lie. Maybe it was just a tiny bit bruised. Your words circle his mind as he grows more annoyed. He knows he shouldn’t be because he knows you meant it all as a joke, but now he feels like he has a point to make.
He still had some control.
Humming to yourself, you calmly finish rinsing your hair, making sure to get all the shampoo out. You’re about to turn around to grab your vanilla body wash, when a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. You scream as you push away, slipping and falling on your butt. 
“Oh shit.” Aiming a harsh look at the 29 year old, you throw your head back as you let out a deep sigh. Why, Carlos, why? Hurrying to help you stand up, he kisses you all over your collarbones. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to surprise you!”
“Consider me surprised.”
His long fingers brush down your waist and in between your thighs. You let out a small whimper. “Forgive me? For almost killing you twice in one day. It wasn’t my intention.” He slips in a large finger. “You know it wasn’t my intention.” Your eyes have fluttered shut as you nod. I know it wasn’t. He smiles as he starts circling his finger inside your velvety walls. Letting out a moan, you rest your forehead against his chest. 
The temperature of the warm water and the sounds you’re releasing are enough for him to become a tad bit too needy. Pulling his fingers out, he licks them before looking down at your confused expression. Without a single warning, he lifts you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his torso. You shake your head; eyes wide with worry.
“We’re gonna die if we do this.” 
He shrugs, a long strand of hair pressed down against his face from how wet it’s become due to the running water. “What’s one more close call?” You’re about to protest, but that quickly goes out the window when you feel him thrust inside of you. Moaning in unison, you tug on his brown hair. 
“You’re insufferable.”
“I don’t care.”
Not a single time during your entire relationship have you done anything like this, so, it came as a complete surprise for him to be so good at not dropping you and being able to keep his dirty rhythm. Mewling against his lips, you clench around him harder when he keeps brushing against your g-spot. 
“Oh-”
Pressing his lips deeper against yours, he groans. “Stop fucking talking.” But you’re too fucked in the head to register his words. Oh God, Carlos. Shit, shit, shit. You run your nails against his broad shoulders. Just like t-that. Fuck- He slaps a large hand over your mouth as he flickers his dark gaze to you. You can physically feel your soul leave your body. “I said to shut up.” He thrust harder as your eyes squeezed shut. “Shut up or I’m seriously going to lose my mind and I will drop you.” Blinking fast, you nod as you bite down on your bottom lip.
You would do anything in order for him to keep going.
It doesn’t take long for you both to finish together; ropes of white cum painting your insides. Letting out a shaky breath, you lean your head against the wall. He smiles as he sucks down on your neck. Giggling, you pull away as you grin ear to ear. “Where’d you learn how to do that?” 
“I had this one girlfriend-” You pinch his ear with all your might as he lets out a squeak in pain. “¡Era broma!” 
“Yeah, well, I don’t find your joke funny.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. It wasn’t right for me to say that.” Craning his head down to make you look at him, he lets out a weak smile. “There’s only you, for me. That’s it. No one else matters.”
Climbing down, you kneel down in front of him, taking in his large figure and delicate hand wrapping around his hard cock.
“Best believe there’s no one else.”
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kakashisbabymama218 · 7 months
Text
Seven days a week: day 1
Kakashi x fem!reader.
smut, oral (fem!rec) mulitple orgasms, overstimulation, cervix fucking, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, crying, mentions of crack (lmfao nobody smokes crack in this i promise)
*okay so this is my first time writing in almost a year, so hopefully im not too outta wack and this doesnt suck assholes.
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“K-Kashiii— it’s too much… too deep” you cry out, hands pushing at Kakashi's toned stomach in a futile attempt to get him to slow down.
Kakashi ignores your cries, still pressing feather light kisses against your neck before sucking down on one of the hickeys that already cover the expanse of your neck. his pace never falters as he slams into you with so much speed and force your pushed up further and further on the bed each time his hips meet yours.
after a particularly rough mission that ended with Kakashi being hurt, lady Tsunade ordered the copy ninja to take a week off to recover and Kakashi planned to spend the entire week fucking you so good the only thought left in that pretty little head of yours was about how good his dick feels as it drags along your gummy walls.
“Shh, shh… you can take it." he murmured against your ear. "you gonna be my good girl and take every inch daddy has to offer, right?" he questions as his tip kisses your cervix over and over again, voice deep and low.
you're so fucked out at the point you don't know whether to nod or shake your head. you want to be good, you really do but you're already on your third orgasm of the night and you can barely keep your eyes open at this point. Kakashi looks like he's barely broken a sweat, damn him and his years of ninja training, his stamina being one of the things you love and hate the most about him.
“But it’s too much” you whine loudly, your walls clenching tightly around his fat cock, and he groans against your ear, hips stilling as he attempts holds himself back, wanting to drag the feeling of you walls fluttering around his dick for as long as he can, never knowing when he's going to be called away for another long mission.
he might have to go without the feeling of your tight cunt clenching down on him for days, weeks, maybe even months, so he's going to get his fill now and he doesnt care how hard you cry or how much you beg.
"just a little bit longer princess then we can take a break, just let me fuck you for a little while longer"
Kakashi pulls out until nothing but his tip his being swallowed by your greedy cunt, slamming his hips against yours and swallowing down the screams that fall from your lips.
"even after taking my dick over and over again, you're still so. fucking. tight" he grunts out the last three words, accompanying them with a sharp slam of his hips.
you're eyes flutter shut as your pushed over the edge once again, your body shaking and convulsing as your fourth orgasm rips through you. your legs wrap around Kakashi's waist, grinding clit against him as you ride out your orgasm.
"mmmpf—fuckkkk" Kakashi groans, pulling out at the very last second and wrapping his hand tightly around his dick, stopping the orgasm he knew was coming. he pushes your legs up, your feet dangling by your ears and gathers spit in his mouth.
he spits directly on your cunt, smirking to himself as he hears the guttural moan that slips past your lips. he watches as his spit drips from your clit down your slit and pools at your gaping entrance. he takes your swollen, sensitive clit into his mouth and sucks down... hard
your hands fly to his long silver strands as you push and pull at his hair, so high off the pleasure you're not sure if you want him to stop or keep going.
"K-kas...Kashi...Kashiiii" you slur, his name falling off of your lips over and over again like a mantra. Kakashi lets his tongue circle around your hole before pushing it in as deep as it'll go, his nose rubbing against your clit.
Kakashi slurps and sucks at your cunt, moaning against your puffy folds, the sweet taste of your slick on his tonuge is addictive, like crack in the 80s. (im so unserious its crazy)
he has to force his face away from your cunt when your cries get louder, more high pitched, and your grip on his hair tightens almost painfully, the telltale signs that you're close and Kakashi wants you to the two of you to cum together.
he strokes himself once, then twice before he's pushing his way past your entrance and into your gummy walls once again. it doesnt take long for his orgasm to approach once again. he brings one of his hands down and uses two of his fingers to rub fast, hard circles on your sticky clit.
a few more thrusts and you're crying out, toes curling, back arching off the bed as you cum for the fifth time, except this time your squirting on Kakashi's dick. the feeling of your slick flowing from you and onto Kakashi's length is what finally makes him cum. his thick, sticky seed paints your walls a delicious shade of white and when he eventually pulls out it drips from your pussy down to your ass and onto the soft, light blue sheets below you.
"shit" he hisses quietly, letting his forehead rest against yours, eyes glued to where the two of you connect, pushing his entire length back inside of you ignoring how sensitive he is, waiting to feel your walls wrapped around him just a little while longer.
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I WROTE THIS, ME MYSELF AND I!!! dont steal my shit!!!!!
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miraculousmultifan · 7 months
Text
The months following Steve's fight with Billy and the excursion through the Mind Flayer’s tunnels found Steve at a bit of a loss. The animosity between him and Hargrove had only grown exponentially, but it didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Sure, Hargrove sucked ass, and he had definitely taken over as the newest reigning douchebag, but that kind of stuff just didn’t matter to Steve anymore.
So at school, he found himself sitting with Nancy and Jonathan during lunch. It was a bit awkward considering Nancy and Jon were dating, but he didn’t exactly have any other friends, and he really didn't want to sit alone.
It was early February, and Steve was picking at his cafeteria food, barely listening to the conversation Nancy and Jonathan were having. He was lost in his own thoughts, staring into space blankly.
Across the cafeteria, Eddie Munson was jumping onto a table and taunting several different cliques as he went on a long monologue about society and social norms that most students tended to tune out. Steve watched him with a small smile, pushing his food around his tray. Then, Eddie was throwing barbs at Hargrove, Tommy H, and Carol. Steve winced slightly, knowing the words probably applied to him too, but he couldn't help feeling that Eddie wasn’t exactly saying anything untrue about them.
Before he could tear his attention away, Eddie was turning to face him. Steve's eyes widened. He hadn't even said anything! He’d been laying low ever since their last run-in with the Upside Down, just trying to graduate. So why was Eddie putting his attention on him now?
Eddie jumped down from the table and sauntered over to where Steve was sitting, throwing a leg over the bench to straddle the spot next to him. “Harrington.”
Now that Eddie was so close, Steve could see a slight red tint to his eyes, and he relaxed a little. He was just high.
“Hey, Munson,” Steve replied, giving him a weak smile in response.
Most of the attention on Eddie had dispersed, but Steve could still feel the piercing gaze of Hargrove on the side of his face. That jackass just would not leave him alone, even if he was trying to avoid altercations for Max's sake.
Eddie leaned an elbow on the table to hold his head up with his hand. “How's the fall from grace treating you, my liege?”
Steve blinked. “Huh?”
Jonathan leaned over from where he was chatting with Nancy. “He’s calling you a king. Asking about how you're doing after everyone dropped you for Billy.”
Rolling his eyes, Eddie smirked. “With more dramatic flair than that, but yeah, essentially.”
“Oh.” Steve floundered, looking between Nancy and Jon as he tried to think of an answer. “Well, it’s been nice not having as much attention, I guess. Nothing all that interesting has happened to me.”
Nancy hid a snort behind her hand, turning to bury her face into Jonathan’s shoulder. Eddie raised a curious eyebrow but didn’t comment on her reaction.
“Surely the life of a king has to have some frivolities. Raging parties, swooning ladies, the like…”
Steve scrunched his nose. “Nah, man. My parents cut off my allowance after my last concussion, so I don’t exactly have the funds for that kind of thing anymore.” He didn’t know why he was confiding that kind of information in Eddie, but it wasn’t like he cared that much about what people thought of him anymore. Eddie could spread it around if he really wanted to. “I just babysit Nancy and Jon’s little brothers and their friends. I promise it’s nothing interesting.”
Smirking, Eddie tilted his head to the side. “I'm sure you could make anything interesting, Harrington. Especially looking like that.”
Steve blushed bright red from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck. Oh god. Was Eddie flirting with him? “Oh. Um, thank you! I'm sure you're pretty interesting too.”
That seemed to snap Eddie out of whatever weird flirty persona he had let settle over him. “Right. Good talk. I'm gonna go now. Have a good lunch, Steve.”
And then Eddie was gone, back to his table as he ranted at his friends with increasingly frantic gestures. Steve stared after him for a bit, biting his lip and trying to make sense of the feelings stirring in his chest. On the other side of the table, Nancy let out a pointed cough with a smug smirk.
“So…” She started. “Wanna tell us what that was all about?”
Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “You witnessed the exact same thing that I did, Nance. I don't have any insider information.”
Nancy giggled. “No, not that. I’m talking about how you blushed like a little schoolgirl when Eddie called you interesting. You wanna tell us about it?”
Shooting another look at Eddie’s table, Steve started to reply before he noticed that some of Eddie’s friends were looking at him. His eyes widened and he whipped back around. “I have no clue what you're talking about. Jon, back me up here.”
“Sorry, dude.” Jonathan winced with a sheepish shrug. “You were pretty red. I mean he did call you hot, so I guess I get it…”
Steve sighed and let his head drop to the table. “I really don’t appreciate the psychoanalysis, Nance. He came over here, talked to us, called the way I look interesting, and left. Sure, I may have gotten a little red, but he was leaning really close.”
Smirking, Nancy leaned over the table to flick the back of Steve’s head. “You’re wrong about one thing. He didn’t come over to talk to us. He only talked to you. I think he finds you more than just interesting.”
Standing up from the table abruptly, Steve shook his head. “We’re not talking about this. It’s not like it matters that much anyway. He was probably just trying to mess with me. I’ll see you guys later.” Steve grabbed his tray and walked off, trying and failing to stop himself from sneaking a glance at Eddie’s table.
Much to Steve’s surprise, Eddie was looking right back at him. When their eyes met, he smirked and waggled his fingers at Steve in a wave. Steve blushed, his eyes wide, and he stumbled, almost bumping into another student in the process.
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angelltheninth · 11 months
Note
I AM BEGGING YOU FOR SOMETHING NSFW WITH MIGUEL OHARA I AM BARKING FOR HIM ITS INSANE
On it! I have so many brainworms of him!
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, daddy kink, crempie, size kink, praise, mention of pregnancy
A/N: It sucks that this is will get a Label pretty quickly cause Miguel is the hot new topic rn but idk, I have so much smutty goodness with this man to share.
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"Look at that, my cum in you and you keep shaking your hips for more. You can't get enough can you sweetheart? Since when is my pretty lady so slutty hm? Did you miss me that bad?" Miguel's claws dug into your hips as the bed shook, and you with it, from the frenzy of his body slamming against yours.
"I can't help that I missed you Miguel. I-" You had to get a firmer grip in the sheets to steady yourself, to try to clear the horny fog in your mind, "I missed your cock daddy."
Miguel chuckled, cock twitching at the title you've given him in that high pitched voice, "Daddy hm? I see you've been discovering new things about yourself while I was gone. I have too. How about you make me a daddy for real?" Your womb was already flooded with his cum, neither of you had the patience to put a condom on, fucking each other like rabbits as soon as the clothes came off. "What do you say I fuck a baby into you? I think you'll look even more perfect with your belly swollen, your tits so sensitive, absolutely glowing."
"Please. Please, I want it. Claim me, breed me as much as you want." You had no idea where those desires came from but something about having Miguel be this into the thought that he came immediately after set off fireworks in your brain. You pushed your ass against him, rubbing the soft flesh against him while your pussy walls greedily took the last bits of his cum.
"What do you say?"
"T-Thank you Mig- daddy." You sighed as his body leaned over yours, warming you up, protecting you, holding you, keeping you all to himself in his big arms, finally back where he should be.
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valeskafics · 8 months
Text
"Hands On" - Aemond Targaryen x Reader
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a/n: a birthday present for @officerbrowneyes 😈❤️
Summary: After an argument about Aemond's jealousy, your betrothed notices that you seem very fascinated by the gloves he wears...
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, glove kink, finger sucking, spanking, fingering, p in v sex
Word Count: 2,150 words
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️
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Aemond Targaryen has always prided himself on being observant. He notices things that others seldom do, little quirks in people’s behavior, the smallest of facial expressions that give away their true intentions. However, when he first meets you, his betrothed, he finds that you are nearly impossible to read. He assumes that you have become an expert at donning a mask to hide your true feelings, as many ladies of the Westerosi nobility do. However, he’s never met anyone quite as adept at it as you. You greet everyone with a polite but distant smile, including him. You speak in a soft, measured tone, not too grating and not too meek, as though you have rehearsed it. Your eyes, though devastatingly beautiful, give nothing away, nor do your lips, which he finds himself desperate to kiss after meeting you only once.
Aemond simply wishes to know how it is you feel about him. Whether you like him, whether you at least find him agreeable if not handsome, whether you even consented to this match. He wants to know you, the real you, behind this facade you’ve put up before everyone. But any attempt made to scratch past the veneer that you’ve put up to protect you is met with silent resistance.
But he continues in his attempts, never once wavering. If he is meant to marry you, to share his life with you, he wishes to know you, know what lies beneath the surface, however beautiful said surface may be. And, though it takes quite a long time, he finally manages to solve the riddle that is his betrothed. The way your lips turn downward almost imperceptibly when you’re displeased, the way your eyes crinkle when your smile is genuine, and the difference between your polite smile and your real one.
More than that, however, he realizes that you do, in fact, desire him in the same way that he has come to desire you. Though several moons still remain until your wedding, the two of you toe the line between what is considered appropriate and what is not. When you trip and fall, Aemond catches you, his hands squeezing your waist, moving to just beneath your breasts, not letting you go until he absolutely has to. However, the thing that seems to most excite you, he notices are his gloves. Whenever he wears them, you cannot seem to tear your eyes from them. He knows he has nice hands, it is a compliment he has received many times, but he has never seen a woman look at him so amorously as you do when he wears his leather gloves.
On your nameday, you and Aemond, unfortunately, have a bit of a row. At the feast thrown in your honor, Aemond’s brother, Daeron, offers to dance with you, sensing your dismay that Aemond has not asked you to dance. You happily accept, running off with him. The dance is by no means intimate, but it is enough to anger Aemond, who later confronts you in your solar. You scowl, glaring up at him, and scold him for his misplaced jealousy. Both of you are slightly tipsy and say harsh words that neither of you truly mean.
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The next day, Aemond is pleasantly surprised when you are waiting in the courtyard after his morning ride. He was just about to find you, in any event. He rushes over to you, a smile on his face.
“Hello, love,” he whispers, his gloved hand reaching out to you, caressing your cheek, “My actions last night were inexcusable-”
“As were my words,” you say, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch, “Let us move past them, my sweet husband to be.”
Aemond chuckles at the way you seem almost like a kitten, nuzzling up against his glove and moves his finger to run over your bottom lip, “How has your morning been so far?” he smirks.
You, however, are entirely distracted by the feeling of the smooth leather caressing your lip, completely entranced by the feeling and merely question, “Hm?”
His smirk widens as he presses down on your lip slightly, “Your morning? I asked how it went?”
“Oh,” you blink owlishly, snapping out of your trance and speaking, “It was fine, sweet prince. How was your ride?”
Aemond resists the urge to chuckle at your sudden realization, feeling quite satisfied with himself as he moves his hand beneath your chin, tilting it up to face him, “It was just fine, but you know what I noticed?”
“What?”
His free hand moves to your waist, pulling you flush up against him as he whispers in your ear, “Your eyes appear to be following my hands, my darling.”
“I,” you stutter slightly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, “Your gloves… I find them very…”
Aemond gives you a cheeky little grin, “Yes? What do you find about them?”
“Distracting,” you whisper, “I find them distracting.”
He gives you a teasing little smirk, “You find them distracting, my love? Do they arouse you?”
You give a nervous laugh, though you make no effort to pull away from him, “What? That is absurd, do not be so lewd, Aemond!”
He shakes his head, that smirk still painted on his face as he pulls you closer, “Oh, come on, sweet one, I am not judging you. Are you embarrassed to admit it?”
You whimper slightly as Aemond’s hand moves from your chin down to your neck. The smooth leather is cool against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You gasp as his hand encloses around neck, resting there as though it is the most natural thing in the world.
“Aemond, we are in public-”
He squeezes your throat slightly, eliciting a gasp from you, “Not to worry, this part of the Keep is almost always empty this time of day,” he whispers in your ear, “No one will be around to hear the way I make you scream my name.”
You let out a soft moan, a response to both the feel of his hand as well as his words, “Aemond…”
Aemond squeezes again, his fingertips almost massaging your throat, “What was that, my love?” he questions, “I didn't quite catch that.”
“I like your gloves,” you finally admit, “How they feel against my skin. How they fit your hands.”
He hums with satisfaction at your admission, releasing your throat to run his thumb across your jawbone, “You look so beautiful like this.”
“Like what?” you question, your voice an airy whisper.
“Desperate for me.”
You glance around before dragging Aemond into one of the empty stables, gazing up at him, “I cannot wait for our wedding. I need you to take me. Here and now.”
He chuckles darkly, “My, my, my, was it not you, my sweet little betrothed, who said that we are in public and must mind our actions? And here you are, dragging me into the stable like some kind of common harlot.”
“I don’t care,” you insist, “I need you. If someone catches us, that is their problem!” Aemond bites back a laugh at your insistence, only to arch an eyebrow when you add after a moment’s silence, “Keep the gloves on.”
Any restraint Aemond was showing before gives way to his desire for you. He spins you around, your back to his front, as he pins you against the side of the stable. One of his hands holds both of your wrists in place over your head while the other moves to lift the fabric of your dress. He raises it to just above your waist, letting out a low groan when he sees that you have decided to forego wearing your small clothes. The bare skin of your ass is revealed to him and he moves his hand over you, squeezing your supple flesh with his gloved hand.
“Such a wanton little thing,” he says, landing a heavy handed slap against your backside, prompting you to let out a mewl of his name, the sting feeling oddly pleasurable, “Begging to be fucked by your betrothed in a stable. Dirty,” he punctuates each word with another slap to your ass, “Little. Whore.”
“Yes,” you cry out, “I am. I need you, Aemond, please!”
He soothes your abused skin, moving his hand over it, the coolness of the leather lessening the sting, but soon enough, he decides to change his strategy. You feel his fingers moving between your thighs, teasing you, stroking your cunny with feather-light touches.
“Aemond,” you whine pathetically, “You are such a tease, what are you doing?”
Your betrothed chuckles, nipping at your earlobe before whispering, “Keep whining, sweet one. Let’s see if you’re so mouthy when you’re stuffed full of my cock, hm?”
You let out a moan at his words as he pushes two fingers inside of you. The feeling of the leather against your bare skin, your most sensitive, intimate areas, is enough to drive you mad with lust. You feel him, pumping them in and out of you at a steady, languid pace, as if to tease you. You wonder to yourself if he is enjoying this as much as you are, but your silent query is soon answered when you feel him grinding the evidence of his arousal against your ass.
Aemond’s thumb moves against your sensitive pearl, his fingers still pumping in and out of you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Aemond thinks he’d prefer feeling you squeezing around his fingers rather than the gloves, but he’s quite happy with the sweet little moans, the whimpers you’re letting out, and then the low whine of his name as you reach your peak, spilling yourself.
He turns you around, pushing his leather-clad digits into your mouth, staring at you, a silent demand for you to lick his gloves clean, which you do with enthusiasm. It is strange, almost humiliating, you think, and yet, you cannot help but crave it. The way he gazes at you, his pupil blown wide with lust, the smirk curling at the corner of his lips, the way his cock strains against his breeches, all of it is enough to drive you nearly insane with want.
You’re shocked when Aemond lifts you up and drops you onto a bale of hay, climbing over you, one hand knotting in your hair while his free hand makes quick work of his breeches, “Aemond!”
He does not answer, instead, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants, prompting you to let out a quiet little gasp. He gives it a quick tug, realizing from the feeling of the leather against him just why you enjoy his gloves so much.
“You are sure you wish to do this?” he stares at you, “You are sure you want me to take you?”
You nod, leaning up and pressing your lips to his, “Yes. I am sure.”
Aemond sheathes himself inside you, slowly, inch by inch, watching to make sure he is causing you no discomfort. You shift slightly, grimacing as your body stretches to accommodate him, though the pain passes quickly. Aemond stays completely still inside of you, moving one of his hands to your throat again, caressing your skin, the other still tangled in your hair.
“Please move,” you plead after a moment, “I need you.”
Aemond does not need to be told twice. He moves to grab your hands, holding one wrist in each gloved hand, and begins pounding into you like some sort of depraved beast. You barely hold back your cries of pleasure, and then? You remember Aemond’s words. You have no need to hold anything back. You moan loudly as you feel his cock bully against your walls, your back arching off the hay bale as he thrusts into you over and over. Aemond’s gaze remains on you, watching every little facial expression you give, every sound you make, committing every single thing you enjoy to memory, resolving to continue making you feel this good every day for the rest of your lives.
You feel your peak approaching as he continues to slam his hips against yours, over and over, the tip of his cock brushing against your sweet spot with every thrust. You gasp Aemond’s name as you squeeze around him, tighter and tighter, until waves of white hot pleasure overtake you and you spill yourself on him. Aemond gently pulls out of you, finishing himself with his hand, resolving not to spill his seed inside you until you are officially wed, not wanting to stain your honor.
The two of you lay there, in that stable, for a long moment before you burst into laughter.
“We have hay all over us,” you muse, pulling some out of Aemond’s hair.
He chuckles, returning the favor, “And yet, I have no regrets.”
“Nor do I,” you whisper, finding his lips again.
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ma1dita · 6 months
Text
kiss his face with an uppercut
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smutty part 2 here-> heavy hitter
words: 4k
summary: james potter is so attractive you could beat him to death with a bludger. james potter x fem!beater!reader not from gryffindor (for the plot!!)
warnings: none! james gets physically hurt multiple times by reader, multiple innuendos, enemies to lovers kinda, less serious lovey dove more sexual tension!!! probably not accurate quidditch gameplay
a/n: sorry for the hold up guys this took almost a month of on and off editing lmfao— this whole oneshot makes me think of the filipino word ‘gigil’– simply translating to cuteness aggression; i barely know jack shit about sports much less quidditch but this concept had me looking up quidditch rules to be able to provide– eat up kids
Y/S- sibling name
Y/H- house
(posted & edited 10/10/23)
Oh BROTHER, this guy STINKS! I mean, how has he not gotten walloped at least once during this godforsaken game? You suck your teeth at the sight of James flying around the pitch blowing kisses to his fan club and Lily Evans, who turns her nose up at the sight of him.
Merlin, when will this game end?
The Hogwarts Quidditch Semi-Finals of 1977 was a game to watch… until both teams stopped scoring what seemed like hours ago. Both Gryffindor & (Y/H) were at a stalemate, down some players due to injury and now, even lower team morale. Gryffindor team captain and chaser James Potter, notorious Marauder, and resident flirt, is not someone who likes to lose. He’s spent all season drilling his teammates, memorizing plays, and thinking of every outcome possible to ensure another Gryffindor victory. James’ affinity to be right takes precedence over anything, after all. But after beating down almost all of (Y/H)’s reserves, James was almost vibrating with confidence. He really doesn’t lose, not if he can help it.
“AND ANOTHER (Y/H) IS DOWN WITH AN INJURY— Team captain Whithall calls for a timeout as they reconvene on what to do next! Hope you’re still comfy in the stands, folks….” the student announcer grumbles.
There’s absolute chaos on the field, and like birds scuffling over a piece of bread, (Y/S), the team’s last good beater is floating on a gurney, ready to be transported to the Hospital Wing.
“Oh, here comes trouble…” Sirius murmurs, smacking James on the back to grab his attention.
You jump down from the stands to check on (Y/S), and James is too busy reveling in the idea of winning the goddamn semi-finals that he doesn’t notice you putting Quidditch gear on.
“Easy win from here on out, Pads! The little lady’s just checking the damage. Not important,” he chortles before Sirius physically grabs his head to face the girl walking towards him, currently storming across the turf to meet him and his team.
“I’m subbing in,” you say, angry at how dirty Gryffindor’s been playing, and angry that you even have to play in (Y/S)’s stead.
“Sweetheart, this game is for serious, you know that right?” James says a bit dumbly with a furrowed brow. Both of you are head to head, and James sees the twitch in your eye as you cross your arms. Hot air is seeping out of your pores but James’s lip simply quirks up in intrigue. You’re someone he hasn’t noticed before, and the only thing running through his mind besides winning the game is that you’re really pretty. But then again, he’s always found angry women to be attractive, in retrospect.
“Yeah, for the actual cup, not…for Sirius… It’s the wrong time to joke, innit?” Sirius says to break the ice, noticing the palpable tension between your glares. Your faces are inches away from each other and he’s not sure if you two are going to fight or kiss, but it makes him grimace all the same.
“Who do you think (Y/S) practices with? Unlike you and your friends, I know when to take things seriously,” You say through gritted teeth.
“She’s legit, Potter. Got added to our reserves last week.” Whithall pipes up, ready to get back to the game. The crowd has been weathered down after hours of anticipation, and they want to see the end of it, no matter the outcome.
“Much to my surprise,” you grumble, elbowing the authority in the form of a teenage boy not much older than yourself. You should’ve known your sibling was looking a little too happy as they got floated off the pitch on a gurney.
“Then let’s play. Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” James says condescendingly, floating away on his broomstick like it’s a walk in the park, but the way you’re slapping the bat against your palm is getting Sirius a tiny bit nervous for his precious countenance. The whistle blows and the game resumes.
“A SURPRISE ADDITION (Y/N) JOINS HER HOUSE AS BEATER! Gryffindor better watch out for her swi—” You slam the bludger in James’s direction and it hurtles toward him so fast that he almost folds in half, barrel-rolling on his broom to dodge it. The move makes Sirius and a few of their other teammates gasp to see James scrambling back onto his broom.
“Oops! Looks like I missed.” you deadpan, balancing midair as you whack another one where it rebounds off the Gryffindor seeker and back towards James, hitting both of them in the gut.
“THIS GIRL’S GOT AN ARM ON HER! Though might I say her hits look a bit targeted…” The commentator says worriedly, and everyone in the crowd is leaning in their seats trying to get a better view.
“Merlin, are you trying to kill me woman?” he yells in outrage.
“I’m trying to finish the game. Your big head is in the way,” you say with a straight face as Sirius bats towards you, and you spin on your broomstick without shifting your posture. The smile on your face as you taunt him should be considered criminal, but he’s looking at you in a new light.
Yeah, now he’s paying attention. The other Gryffindor players can’t seem to figure out your next move and you bat another bludger towards Potter’s extremely large target of a head, and all of a sudden he’s freefalling through the air as his teammates fly to catch him, one by one. His nose still makes impact with the ground before Sirius catches by the ankle like Achilles taking a dip in the River Styx.
“AND (Y/H) HAS CAPTURED THE SNITCH! Good job to their Seeker, Appleby! Congratulations on a job well done, so that we can all finally go home.” The commentator cringes as McGonagall swats at him to leave the podium.
Who even is she, taking over the game and stealing his win like that?
He’s walking up from the sidelines with a bloody nose, going to shake Whithall’s hand and you’re standing behind him, a malicious grin plastered between your rosy cheeks, windswept and almost ethereal while he looks like he got flattened by a hippogriff. Fuck, she’s pretty. You look like you floated down from the heavens, and by the looks his team gives him, he may have just crawled out of the earth.
“Congrats,” he grumbles, turning to you. Really pretty. It’s even worse that you’re devastatingly stunning up close— with sweat glistening on your brow and a pearly white smile, he takes a good moment to really look at you and memorize the flutter of your eyelashes. He’s unsure if he’s concussed or maybe it’s his astigmatism, but there are actual stars in his vision as he peers down at you. Your confidence is actually kind of sexy.
“You look…um…you ride well.” He stutters, shaking his head from his personal reverie.
“Excuse me?” you say, your little mouth agape in what he hopes is not disgust. He looks pathetic, blood sopping down to his jersey as he looks at you like he’s only seeing you for the first time, acknowledging you closely. Something about seeing him flail makes you crinkle your nose as you stifle a grin.
“I mean…Um…” Damn.
Sirius pulls his best friend away before you can bite back your laughter, all of your teammates leading you away to celebrate.
“Mate, what the shit was that? Are you alright in the head?” Sirius says, and if James’ nose wasn’t already bleeding he was going to slap him silly.
“Just…Didn’t see that coming…” he mumbles, and his mind, along with all of Gryffindor is in disarray as they walk back to their tower. He’s got a lot of thinking to do on what his next move will be.
James Potter goes through life in three methodical ways: 1.) creating a strategy, 2.) making a scene, 3.) and dragging his friends into it— in that particular order, every single time.
Now notice how considering consequences is not part of said process.
His ego wouldn’t let him rest after a girl, much less a very pretty one that he’d never noticed before—beat him at what he does best; quidditch! In fact, the next few nights were void of sleep and filled with thoughts of you. The way your hair looked so soft in the sunlight, how your lip turns almost Gryffindor red when you bite it in concentration, and maybe how your delicate hands would look as they tightly grasp onto his bat...ahem…your quidditch bat. Some dirty delusions aside, if looks could kill, he’d be dead seven times over, but honestly? He’d probably thank you for it.
James’ new mission was to figure you out, and if that was his mission, it meant it was the rest of the Marauders’ too. For the sake of winning the Cup, of course. That’s what he tries to tell himself until his mates catch him ogling you again at breakfast.
“So what is it with you and girls that inflict you nothing but pain and humiliation?” Remus muses, as the Marauders watch James laugh at a joke you told your friends at the (Y/H) table across the Great Hall. He looks at you like someone who stares at the sun, squinting and burning himself as he ponders on why he’s unable to look away.
James fumbles a response, shoving Remus as they all laugh. “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a masochistic streak, Moony. Just…There’s something about her…”
Your friends are pointing at him now, and as you turn to meet his eyes, you lift a brow inquisitively and flip him off. Sirius’s face pulls up in shock at James’s growing smile at the interaction as he mumbles, “Maybe you’ve met your match, Prongs…”
The boy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, anything to try to see you clearer as he leans over to put his head in his hands, sighing dreamily. His friends are not as easily amused.
“A match made in heaven, you reckon?”
“Match made in hell, more like!” You spit, almost choking on your scrambled eggs at your friends’ insinuations. Your back is as stiff as a board, shoulders tight at the notion of you ever liking James Potter triggering your fight or flight response. When it comes to someone as pompous as him, only the word fight comes to mind.
“Oh come on, love… He’s popular, funny, and quite handsome…It’s James freaking Potter we’re talking about!” your roommate gushes, but you're not the least bit impressed.
“Is that supposed to do anything for me? I can think of a few F words that middle initial can stand for…” Eyes rolling, you peek back at the Gryffindor table to see said boy wiggling his fingers at you teasingly until he accidentally smacks Peter in the face with his toast. Idiot.
“Only hot people get away with stupid shit. I mean look at the four of them!” you continue, gulping down the rest of your coffee. “Potter’s the worst out of all of them though. Big ass head must compensate for a lot of things." You say, shaking your head at your friends.
"And yet, here you are, talking about him for the fourth time this morning," your roommate replies, smirking. " You’ve been Potter crazy since you helped us beat Gryffindor in the semi-finals! Are you sure you don't have a crush on him?"
"No!" you say too quickly, too loudly, that the shrill noise of your voice makes your ears hurt and the shit-eating grins on your friends’ faces reflect how desperate that came off. You slump onto the table, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“You wanna kiss him, don’t you?” they tease, and you push away their puckering faces as you scoff, “With an uppercut, maybe!” Almost makes you want to stomp over there and wipe the stupid look off his face…and maybe sit on his lap. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. All this aggression really needs to go somewhere, but unfortunately, James Potter’s lap is the only destination you have in mind.
“He’s just really punchable. I get so annoyed by the sight of him I just want to… ugh!” you groan, your hands shaking as you try to convince them (or yourself). Your friends cackle at the sight of you pretending to squeeze his curly-topped, mothball-filled head, but your brain changes course and you imagine what it’s like to hold his hand. Your fingers flex cautiously at the idea, wondering what his touch would feel like. Grabbing a glass of water to cool your thoughts, your peripherals reveal he’s still staring at you like you make night turn into day. His gaze is searing, and as you put your lips around your straw, he licks his lips slowly. Shit.
Availability bias is one hell of a mindfuck. If only they taught psychology at this magic school, maybe the wizarding world would have way fewer problems and more people would be straightforward and not.. Dead. James decides he can categorize his life now as before you, and after you.
Before you, well… he honestly wasn’t even sure if you were a student at Hogwarts until he saw you marching down the pitch, but now… You’re everywhere. He can spot your voice in a crowded hallway, and who was going to tell him you’ve had three classes with him this whole term? Even down to when he shuts his eyes, he’s convinced his eyelids are branded with the imprint of your silhouette. Every conversation he strikes with you ends with you laughing at him, and he’s unsure if that’s a step up or down from the many boisterous rejections from Lily Evans over the years. He sort of wishes you’d laugh with him, and do a number of other things, (heck he’s got a list of ideas he’s wanked off to), and well… His soul is tightly wound with thoughts of you and Godric, listen to this guy…. maybe the boys were right…. Maybe he really does need to get laid.
It’s funny how fate works, two people who’ve barely interacted in the past six years at Hogwarts are now paired together for a History of Magic essay worth 20% of the term grade. You’re trying to get this done as fast as possible, he notices, mapping out ideas and trying to discuss how to piece it all together, yet James does everything but that to get you to pay attention to him. He fills your head with mundane little questions, asking you what your favorite fruit is to the childhood bedtime story your parents told you as a kid.
“What’s your middle name, Potter?” You muse, finally entertaining him after endless chatter. His eyes trail to the exposed skin of your collarbones as you stretch in your seat, and well… you don’t look as menacing as you always do but did it seriously have to be this question? He scratches the back of his head, silent for the first time in the two hours you’ve been trying to craft this essay for the sake of both your grades.
“What? I can’t just go around calling you James Fucking Potter. Spit it out, you know too much about me already.”
He clears his throat, a blush creeping up his neck. “It’s… that’s an intimate question, love… I…”
Your laughter at his response makes his senses shut down. “Oh, so it’s bad. What is it, Franklin? Fabio? Come on, I won’t bite.” A part of him wishes you would, your face equally flushed and so close to him right now, almost leering at him for an answer. It’d be easy to just lean over…
“Fleamont.”
Your lips quirk, until they pucker like you’ve guzzled a lemon. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, and the sound explodes out of you. You laugh so loudly Madam Pince kicks you both out of the library, James carrying both your knapsacks, a hand around your waist as you rush out of there. Your body is firm under his touch, pupils unfocused and dilated looking at him now that you know his dirty little secret. James thinks that if you keep looking at him like that, hell, you can call him anything you want.
Fleamont.
What a prick. A really attractive, clueless prick. The memory makes you giggle as you get ready for the Quidditch Cup and your team charges out onto the field to face Gryffindor again, as you’ve both advanced to the finals. He’s not as much of an asshole as you originally thought. It’s undeniable that something pulls you towards him, whether it be hormones, concern, or the fact that it’s actually adorable the way he writes his mother back weekly, or admirable how he moved Sirius out of Black Manor himself last year. Maybe it’s endearing the way he goes out of his way to make first-years smile or heartwarming how even Filch can’t find reasons to hate him. The golden boy. You get it now, why people get trapped in his web, and why many are unwilling to leave.
You pass him outside the locker rooms, bumping shoulders as he smiles almost bashfully. The golden boy, loudmouth, ball of energy is reduced to a nervous pile of teenage ineptness at the sight of you, every time. You could take him (not in a fight). In an actual fight, maybe you could land a few solid hits before his nice muscly arms hold you do—
“Ready to finish this, darling?”
Your eyes refocus when his hand nudges the small of your back, right above your hip. “Mhmm,” you clear your throat, “Ready to lose, Potter?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moves closer, slowly backing you into the wall.
“Eyes on the prize Potter, I’m in this to win it.” You say, looking at the closing distance between both your chests. James nods, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment, even when the announcer calls out the imminent start of the game.
“WELCOME TO THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP OF 1977 GRYFFINDOR VS. (Y/H)! I hope you are all excited as our last match between these teams was quite thrilling at the end of it!” The announcer says, hyping up the roaring crowd as your teams parade onto the pitch.
His eyes are still on you when he shakes Whithall’s hand and the whistle blows. It’s intense, and makes you feel like you’re burning, even if the wind is blowing like crazy today. You bat the bludgers toward anything red on the field that even dares to move toward your teammates. James won’t stop staring at you, and you both lock eyes across the pitch.
“What? Flirt with me later, Potter, I’m trying to win!” you yell.
He’s got you transfixed, and it’s crazy how his timing is always wrong. You bat the bludger away from your captain but don’t notice James flying towards you to respond as you give it your hardest swing, making the impact against his huge target of a head all the more painful.
Holy shit, did you kill him?
He keels off his broom like a shot bird and then he’s falling, and you’re the one chasing the Gryffindor chaser as he flaps his arms like the idiot you know he is as you push forward to catch him before he splits his skull open.
“I’msofuckingsorryJamesareyouokay?” You blurt out as you land, soft hands moving over his broad chest and quickly swelling face. He’s wearing that stupid grin again, and you think you may have finally broken Gryffindor’s team captain.
“You know my name?” he sighs happily, comfortable in your lap and maybe it’s the brain damage you’ve caused him or the way his glasses are bent beyond repair but you will every magical predecessor you can think of to stop you from punching him in the face right now.
“Are you fucking dense?” You scream, shaking your head, and jostling him as his arms try to reach out to swipe the hair away from your face.
“Must’ve hit him so hard you knocked his filter loose..” Sirius muses after he lands next to you two on the grass.
“POTTER’S TAKEN A HIT FROM (Y/H) and it doesn’t look good ladies and gents! Gryffindor calls a timeout to check on their captain!” The announcer calls out, and there are so many eyes on the two of you as James is simply giggling like a prepubescent schoolboy. Fuck, you’ve maimed the golden boy.
“Y’know, sweetheart. You’re…really sexy when you’re on top of me like this,” he says breathily, and you really can’t hit him, so you jab Sirius in the gut instead when he tries to laugh at his best friend’s stupidity.
James wakes up in the hospital wing with a blinding headache until someone gently pulls the curtains closed, stroking the hair off his sweaty forehead.
“Poppy you always take such good care of me…” he mumbles. A punch lands on his chest and his eyes rip open, not expecting to see you at his bedside.
“Idiot,” you mutter. “You’re always in my way and now look, you almost got yourself killed and it would’ve been my fault! How dare you, James…” The red is crawling up your neck like a brushfire as you berate him, and he takes it with a grin as you jabber on, putting his arms behind his head.
“Were you worried about me, love?” James smiles cheesily, catching your arm at its half-hearted attempt to slap him across the face.
“I was not. Stubborn people like you are hard to kill. I’m more annoyed that I can’t morally punch your face in since you have a concussion. Madame Pomfrey’s already healed your cheekbone.”
“That you broke,” he says matter-of-factly, taking a chance to kiss the palm of your hand. This concussion is working like a bottle of Felix Felicis. It’s endearing to see you taking care of him, whether you like it or not (even with the punches he’s sure it’ll come with).
“You’re sick in the head.”
“For you. I was trying to come tell you that I never took my eyes off the prize, but then of course you bludgeoned my face in before I could get sweet on yo—”
Your lips crash down on his, and nothing about it is delicate. It’s a month’s worth of yearning, imaginations coming to fruition as he grabs the back of your head to deepen the embrace. Your lips on his are hot and heady, and he could be easily convinced that he’s stuck there, cauterized to the shape of you.
“I know. I could feel you watching.” You breathe into his mouth, leaning up on his chest. His lips chase up again to meet yours, biting down on your bottom lip as you groan. He might like that noise better than the sound of your laughter. It’ll be fun to find out.
“Who won the Cup?”
Laughter spills out of your red, kiss-swollen lips as you pat his cheek gently, fingers grazing over his healed cheekbone.
“Not Gryffindor. But listen closely James, if you be a good boy and get past this concussion, I’ll make up for it by showing you how well I ride…”
He likes the sound of that, Quidditch Cup be damned. You see, James Potter never loses, ladies and gentlemen, not really—and well... there’s always next year.
“I like the way
you look at me
like you are
going to talk to me
or devour me
and I am fine with either.”
-N.R. Hart
taglist: @jsjcue
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pinkmirth · 8 months
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nfl reiner braun tears his alc and requests the best surgeon to work on it. he gets, youuuu, sweet smelling pink doctor coat wearing you and he can’t even take you serious when you’re going over his chart or requesting to feel the muscle with those pink gloves on. you even look younger than him and he’s telling you: “darlin’, listen… im a big deal around here and i need someone to help fix me not give me a boner.” or something like that and you almost don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re the best that there’s ever been at this hospital.
RECOVERY, reiner braun !
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୨୧ — pairing: footballer!reiner braun x fem!reader
୨୧ — synopsis: this doctor’s got a hardheaded patient! it’ll take some effort to convince him of your effectiveness . . .
୨୧ — contains: ( 1.4k words of . . . ) modern au, slight nsfw (more like suggestive!), footballer!reiner, surgeon!reader, fem!reader (black coded), reiner has an ACL tear, reiner’s touch-deprived/sexually frustrated, rei’s kindaaa conceited (just a little bit!), palming, minors shoo!
୨୧ — mira’s note: ramona, my love! i adore all your reiner concepts, they’re always sooo perfect 🎀 thank youuu for sharing your rei-rei thoughts with me :) now here’s a lil drabble for my gorgeous man! (not really proofread thoroughly, i apologize for any typos or mistakes!)
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isopropyl.
it’s all that reiner can smell. he’s a healthy man, he hardly belongs here— in this chilled surgeon office with the most pale, unflattering lighting. the parchment-like exam table paper rustles beneath him with every stretch and maneuver he makes, and his weight is enough to pry a creak out of the treatment table every now and again.
a recurring clack of footsteps and the whine of the door lets reiner know that you, the ‘sexy doctor lady from earlier’ has returned from reading his screenings. he wasn’t able to catch your name amidst the splitting pain from his acl tear, so that’ll make do in the meantime.
you set down your clipboard and turn to face him. your dear patient appears a bit mussed from the big game that took place earlier— his golden hair’s all fluffy and wild, that red football uniform of his is streaked with the green of the field, and his left cheekbone got a little scratch somehow. you’ll make sure to dab that with rubbing alcohol later.
“your vitals are well above average.” you commend. his reply’s a mere grunt. he can’t bring himself to take you seriously. just fucking look at you; pink latex gloves pulled over manicured hands, welcoming eyes all doe and shiny, with a sweet glossed smile that he won’t forget for days to come. he hates having to meet such a beauty under these grim circumstances– after all, you’re the kind of woman he’d take out on a date.
“lucky for you, mister braun, your injury isn’t a complete tear . . . so your recovery time shouldn’t be too long. it’ll last about six months, give or take.”
he isn’t listening.
reiner isn’t even sure of when he began to space out; your lips are just so plush, so alluring. his surname sounds sweeter than it should when falling from your mouth. before long, you clear your throat. it’s enough to snap him out of it. “i’d appreciate your undivided attention, sir. we’re currently going over your healing plan— ”
“lemme ask you, sugar,” he interjects with a low rasp. reiner braun’s well known around these parts, and you can only assume that being such a big deal has gotten to his head. what he says next throws you off, “when’s the real doctor comin’ in, hm?” it’s hard to remain professional, but you do. no furrowed brows, no scrunched up face— nothing but a tight, forced smile.
you suck in a breath through your nose, maintaining composure. “what makes you think it isn’t me, mister braun?” he can hear the tinge of vexation in your voice. clearly, this footballer has struck a chord or two.
“you’ve got pink gloves on, barbie.” he snarks out a laugh, just a bit mean. he’s much too handsome for such a condescending tone.
you bring a gloved hand flat to his chest, pushing reiner back into the examination table. his breath catches in his throat when you knead your fingers into his thigh, right where the tear resides beneath firm muscle. you’re assertive, and goddamn, does he love it.
“i’m your doctor.” you assure, voice firm. he groans out at the calculated pressure; it feels good. makes the throb of pain fade, just a bit.
“you’ll have to put some faith in me, hm?” your tone is warm, words soft and patient in a way he doesn’t deserve. reiner can’t lie, it was crass of him to have undermined you that way.
“my apologies, doc.” he addresses you in the rightest way he can. it’s his tiny little way of making amends.
“so, how long— fuck, how long did ‘ya study for?” reiner tries for small talk, voice low and shaken. you’d like to believe that whatever left his lips just now wasn’t a moan. no, it was more like . . . a groan of pain, perhaps?
“about six years. graduated early,” no wonder you look just about his age, if not younger. all his previous doctors were just as old as his parents.
“smart and pretty, huh?” he graces you with a feeble grin, a white gleam of teeth surrounded by neatly trimmed stubble. it’s safe to say that he’s your hottest patient up to date.
you continue on with prodding into the thick meat of his left thigh, and those throaty whines of his make you feel a way you simply shouldn’t.
it’s been a while since reiner’s been touched this way. he knows it’s just a regular inspection for his stupid injury, but he can’t recall the last time a woman’s splayed their hands on his body. he’s always busy with football this, training that. there’s never any time remaining for hook-ups, talkless of a relationship. that being said, it isn’t long before he begins to grow excited.
“m— mister braun,” you call out, voice airy, “you seem a little, um . . . worked up.”
“huh?” his eyes flit up to meet yours. you lock onto his honey-brown pools of desperation.
nothing else is uttered. you wordlessly direct your gaze towards his crotch, and give him a knowing look. reiner finally catches on— he fucking knew he felt his bottoms getting tight. hesitantly, the blonde lifts his head to peer down at his pants. surely enough, a boner’s prodding at the centering cloth of his football shorts.
“goddamn,” he drops his head back onto the examination table, bashfully throwing his forearm over his eyes. humiliation eats at the proud man, reducing him to a jumble of hormones.
you can hardly bring yourself to contain your chuckle, which makes his reddened cheeks burn further. it seems that his bodily reaction to your skilled hands has given him a sense of humility at best, and embarrassment at worst.
“i’ve never been appointed to a lady before . . .” is his hushed excuse. he’s still got his eyes shielded with his arm— he can’t even fucking bear to look at you. it’ll only spur him on further.
‘i turn you on?’ is what you’re just longing to question him. you know that you do— he’s been looking at your lips with bated breath since he got here. not to mention the peeks he’d taken at your ass whenever you turned around to read his chart or grab a cotton ball.
it’s quite bold of you— more like dangerous— to bring your ministrations upwards, closer to the ache under his pants. you’d tell yourself to stay on task, but professionalism has long been thrown out the window.
your gloved hands trail mischievously, placed directly atop reiner’s hard-on. warmth radiates from your palm, and you squeeze. his eyes blink shut, hips gently bucking upwards. his tear burns from beneath his skin, but he doesn’t fucking care. he bets he could cum from your hands alone.
reiner eventually manages to pull his arm away from blocking his viewpoint, chest heaving with every passing second. if you were to use your stethoscope on him, his heartbeat would be nothing short of erratic.
“trust me, mister braun,” is your reassuring whisper, “you’re in good hands.”
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dxwnstxr · 7 months
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Electrifying
Fandom: Genshin impact
Characters: scaramouche x fem!reader
Genre: smut
Warnings: creme pie, name calling, degrading, praising, clit playing, fingering, pounding, spanking, comforting during sex, breeding, praise kink, nipple play, breast sucking, sub! reader, dom! scaramouche, crying during sex, aftercare but not shown
A/n: I have a Xiao smut draft just sitting in my drafts. This might be the cringiest thing I've written....
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His fingers dug into your sides as scaramouche's abdomen slapped against your rear. You bit down on the closet pillow to you, gripping it tightly. Scara quickly pulled out and slapped your ass hard. Leaving a reddened mark.
"Ride me, slut"
His harsh words made you sulk. You always loved scaramouche, but you wished he'd be a bit more nice during sex. Scara sat down, his back pressing against the headboard of the bed. Hoisting yourself over his lap, you sank yourself back onto his length. Feeling him stretch you back open resulted in gripping scaramouche's shoulders. Hard enough to leave marks.
"I-it hurts"
You'd whimper out. Your forehead resting itself on his shoulder, hiding your face from his view.
"You'll be fine. You just need a kick start"
Scara would reply, bucking his hips up into you. A high-pitched moan left your soft lips.
"S-scara s-stop"
He didn't seem to care, continuously rutting his hips into yours. Though they soon came to a halt when he felt water droplets drip down his shoulder.
"Y/n?"
He whispered into your ear. He stopped his movements and let you relax. Gently, sliding his hand up and down your back, he took his other hand and moved your hair to the side. Placing soft, delicate kisses to the crook of your neck, he waited for you.
"Can I see your face, pretty?"
Sniffling once, you slowly lifted your head up. Your nose close to his as he was now able to see your tear stained cheeks and watery eyes.
"I'm sorry hun"
He spoke lovingly, cupping your cheek.
"Do you wanna stop?"
After a few seconds, you shook your head 'no'. Scara then placed a delicate kiss to your cheek and leaned back.
"Then go at your pace pretty girl"
He didn't move a muscle. He wanted you to only di what you were comfortable with. Slowly but surely, you started to rock your hips. Earning a grunt from scara. Leaning forward, scara took one of your nipple into his mouth. He ran his tongue over the peek, sucking it in between his teeth. Letting go with a pop, he made open kisses all around your wet peek.
"That's it, just like that beautiful"
You finally got into it, grinding your hips into his at a faster pace than before. You never usually lasted long whenever you both did it. And scara made sure you were always to one to cum first. So it was no surprise to him when he felt you clamp down on him.
"You going to cum on my cock pretty lady? C'mon, now, use your words"
He grunted, leaving harsh marks on your collar bone.
"I-im g-gonna.. a-ahh"
Scara brought his slender fingers down to your swollen clit, drawing a circular motion onto the bud.
"Be a good girl and cum for me"
He whispered into your ear. Tightening around his girth, you came on his length. Not long after you, scara's hands quickly made their way to your ass as he thrusted himself into you again. He thrusted his cum inside you, filling you to the brim. Pushing you backward, your back hit the coldness of your both's mattress. Scara gently pulled out of you and watched as his cum followed, dripping from your cunt.
Taking two fingers, he scooped the mixture of your and his release and pushed it back into your stimulated hole. He thrusted his fingers deep into you, making sure you didn't loose a drop.
"Don't waste any pretty girl, or I'll just have to fill you up again."
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idkfitememate · 4 months
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Hi! I was wondering if you could write another part for Otter creator! Like maybe them with Furina and Neuvillette having a tea party or something! (Possibly Wriothesley[?]!!), and they start realising more! (If Wriothesley’s there he should be oblivious for a bit!)
“Tea party, hooray!” It was easy to see that Furina was excited.
Because today was the day for your first REAL tea party. Not just locked in a room with her for a day.
And yes you meant a literal day. Like a whole ass day.
Anyway-
Her and Neuvillette were going to FINALLY take you to meet Wriothesley! Yay! It was just a date to take about some royal officiant bullshit you couldn’t bring yourself to care about, but as per usual, they refused to take you out of their sights.
So here you were, getting all dolled up in Lady Furina’s lap. A new bow tie, a fancier hat, and somehow Otter friendly makeup.
Where they found it? You don’t know. Did they make it? You’re 99.9% sure they had it commissioned. Do you look good with cate eye eyeliner? Hell yes.
You were now being carried in the Otter Pack™️ (a rather large and plush satchel that Neuvillette carried around, filled with lush blankets and pillows and only the FINEST toys for you to play with) with your head sticking out of the top, your fur freshly combed and oiled. Neuvillette’s fingers curled through what wasn’t covered by the hat.
Hell, you even had on some adorable golden and lapis embedded clip on earrings - they wouldn’t dare pierce your ears for fear of hurting you and damaging your hearing.
People cooed at you in your Otter Pack™️ and you sucked that shit up, you were basically drowning in sparkles!~ All the while Furina and Neuvillette spoke above you.
“Are we sure we should bring mon preux chevalier? I mean, naturally we should share their beauty with the world but… in a place filled with criminals..?” Furina spoke in a hushed tone, not wanting you to hear her.
“I understand my Lady, but there is no one to trust to take care of them. Who will give them their favorite treats? Shine their coat? Scratch their tummy? No can do it the way we can, Lady Furina. Besides, we are here for only a Tea Party, it should only last around two hours with the matter we must discuss. Three hours at the latest.” Neuvillette replied. Though in truth, he had just as many issues with the whole situation.
It truly was a shame no one was as capable to take care of their darling Otter as them. *Dramatic sigh in French*
Arriving at the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, the duo were ushered inside and directly into Wriothesley’s office.
“Lady Furina! Monsieur Neuvillette! How nice it is to have you in humble prison. Please, follow me.” Wriothesley smoothly opened the conversation, leading the duo to his tea table. Finally, he noticed the Otter Pack™️.
“*Ahem* I see we have a… guest?” Wriothesley mused. See he hadn’t been on the surface for a bit, and news travels slow beneath the waves, so had had no clue of the big hydro duo’s new friend.
“Yea. This is Le superviseur officiel du jury du palais de justice de Fontaine. La Loutre de l'Opéra Eclipse*.” Neuvillette responded curtly. You chittered happily at the title you had just been given as off the last trial held. And Wriothesley only sweated at the long title.
“I… see. Anyway, if we are ready to begin…” And with that you stopped listening.
You had been here for barely a few minutes and you were already bored. See, usually with Furina, something would be happening. Something spectacular! Or intriguing! Never had you seen her in such a… boring environment. Hell, you could tell she was bored but you supposed that being an Archon came with other bullshit jobs other than being pretty and revered.
You hopped out of the Otter Pack™️ and snuggled up in Neuvillette’s lap, and noticed the extra teacup in front of you. Chittering, you sniffed and licked at it, then curled up once more.
You were trying to hide your boredom, but seemed to be failing as you felt Neuvillette’s fingers comb through the fur on your back. You basically purred at the affection, before sighing. Furina turned to you and called out to you.
“Mon ange? Are you bored? Well I, Furina, have just the cure!~” She said in a sing-songy tune. After, she waved her hand and in a puff of hydro, Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta were summoned.
You jumped up, messing up your hat and allowing Neuvillette to fix it, before the four of you jumped up to play. The three swam around you in the air while you followed quickly on the floor, causing the three to laugh. Though, Neuvillette noticed something.
Now, already he and Furina noticed you were smarter than other Otters, being able to understand human speech. You could solve puzzles, and once you had even helped solve a rather hard case! But this was… something else.
Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta and even Singer of Many Waters could speak… kind of. They had their own little babbly language that only Furina could only understand sometimes, and even then it was rocky. That’s why they mostly acted out their wants and needs with over the top gestures… but you.
An otter.
Could understand them perfectly.
You weren’t the only otter they had been summoned around, but then those otter would run away or stay around in curiosity.
But you could understand everything.
You could understand what a god couldn’t.
And that’s when something inside the Dragon Sovereign clicked.
He had been an avid follower of The Creator. The one Above all. Listening gently to all their false promises of bringing his brethren back. If fixing this world of its problems. He would watch as they only cared for themselves. As they punished anyone who went against them. Punished the innocent. As they lavished in the foods and clothes and jewels bestowed upon them by their followers.
Yet the flowers wouldn’t bloom in their presence. The wind wouldn’t blow gently through their hair. The ground and earth wouldn’t stop its quakes. The water would calm its waves. The lightning wouldn’t slow its descent. The fires wouldn’t lower their flames. The ice wouldn’t smooth over and slow the snow.
In fact, flowers would wilt when around them. The wind would whip into windstorms and the earth would rumble with ferocity. Water would rise to heights uncharted and lightning would strike behind their heels. Flame would rise higher and higher and fill the air with ash and snow would turn to hail, ice turning to sharp points around them.
It was the opposite with their darling Otter. He knew something was… not quite right with them. They always had this feel about them.
The melusine would act weirdly about them. Giving them wider smiles and now that he was thinking about it truly… they seemed to always know what they wanted. Even the Clockwork Meka would bow in their presence. When they swam it was always as though the current would work with them, and fish and other creatures of the sea would always surround them, following behind them… almost like…
A veil.
A veil that matched the one their creator always had on in every art of them.
On any statue.
In any painting.
In any description in every book.
They always had a veil.
And glancing at their beloved otter?
Their blue tuff of fur? They lined their back? Combined with the flowing fabrics of their top hat?
Created a veil.
“Excuse me Wriothesley, me Lady Furina must go discuss something. Please keep an eye on ma moitié for us please.” Neuvillette spoke quickly, gently gripping Furina’s arm as she protested, and they both left the room.
You and the three summons looked at the closing office door, then at Wriothesley. He stared back.
“Uhm… hello there, little otter.”
You only chittered in response.
And as Neuvillette and Furina rounded a corner, the Sovereign pressed a hand to her complaining lips.
“My Lady, firstly, my sincerest apologies for dragging you out here. Secondly, I believe I have made a… shocking discovery about our ˈbābē…” Neuvillette’s voice was hushed, making Furina nervous.
“What.. what do you think you found..?” She asked.
“I believe… our darling Otter… is the true Creator…”
Hehehehe… How will Furina react to this knowledge? What with Neuvillette do with this information? And will Wriothesley ever get over seeing an Otter so close to his Archon? Tune in next week to find out!~
Anyway, I love this and where it’s going! I haven’t had to write any angst and I feel it coming now! Hehehe ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა
* The official Jury Supervisor of the Courthouse of Fontaine . The Otter of the Opera Eclipse
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jyoongim · 30 days
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Hi, I would like to ask Adam x female reader, him having sex with the reader, his best exterminator
🙏🏽Note: I am not an Adam fan so i dont know how if this is good.
I HATE THIS SO BAD. YALL I CANT I CANT DO IT *sobbing into pillow* you’ll never get another Adam fic from me
Title: His Best
———————————————————————————————-
You smiled as another extermination went successful. No mishaps and everyone was in one piece. The ladies were calling for a celebration and you nodded, there was no need to soil their fun with plans for next year.
A hand was on your shoulder, pulling you from your chatter, Lute. She nodded her head off to the distance, grinning “Report due”
You nodded and flew to where Adam was to give the annual report.
You were THE top exorcist in Adam’s little angelic harem.
You thought Lute was a bad bitch? Ha! She had nothing on you.
Your skills and strategy on demon extermination was always praise worthy, making you rise in rank rather quickly.
The number of kills you racked in every year? 
Legend.
You tried to clean yourself up slightly, wanting to portray some sort of elegance, but knocked at his office door regardless.
”Lute said you wanted the report sir?” You asked as you approached your commander.
Adam smiled at you, leaning his head on his hand ”yea lay it on me Danger Tits”
You stood like a soldier as you gave the report. You reported the number of hellspawns killed, who made the most kills and who needed to improve their combat training. 
You must have been rambling too much because you didn’t even notice you had started to pace and Adam had wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you into him
“Whoa whoa babes! Hey! Relaaaax. Chill out for a bit” he laughed as you frowned, but relaxed against him.
”you know I LOVE when you talk violence babe but for now…”he started to press kisses to your neck
”I thought i should honor my baddest bitch” you hummed as he removed your mask, smiling when he finally saw your beautiful face.
You pulled away to remove your bloody uniform and burst into giggles as Adam pounced on you, picking you up and sitting you on the desk.
Adam wasted no time in slamming his lips on yours as his hands roamed your body.
You moaned into his mouth as one of his hands tweaked your nipples, pinching and tugging at the sensitive nubs.
The other slipped between your legs, softly brushing against your slit.
You tugged at his heavenly robes as he toyed with you.
”ha! But i promised to celebrate with the girls”you faked concern as his lips trailed down your chest to suck a tit into his mouth sighing as his tongue swirled around a nipple.
He let out a low growl, dipping a finger into your warm heat. ”Oh fuck ‘em. They’ll be fine. Lute can handle them”
Your back arched as another finger sunk into you, pulling a shaky moan from your lips.
Your hips grinded against his hand, riding his fingers as you threw your head back “f-fuck!” You cried, the sensation from both his mouth and fingers had your body tingling. 
“Sera is gonna want my re-report so we have to make this quick” you keened as he kneeled down, trailing kisses from your chest to your slippery folds.
Adam ignored your comment, instead he focused on your puffy clit. He flicked his tongue against the bud, eyes watching as your mouth fell open in a soft gasp. You leaned back slightly, spreading your thighs for him as you jutted your hips against his mouth.
He watched your face contort with pleasure as he trailed his tongue from your clit to slit and back. Wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and softly sucking, using his tongue to coax more slick from you.
“Quick? Oh babe you deserve way more than a quickie buuut if you insist” he mumbled against your pussy.
He gave your cunt one last lick before standing and turning you over, your feet planted as you leaned over the desk. You wiggled your ass at him teasingly, giggling as he smacked your ass and rubbed the tip of his dick against you.
You swear your eyes sported heart eyes when he sunk his dick into you. “Ooh fuck! Yes!” You cried as he set a rough pace, dick hitting those spots that only he could reach.
Soft grunts and whines filled the room as Adam’s hips slammed against yours fap fap fap bounced on the walls as you trembled beneath the angel.
”Tch I never get tired of this pussy. Best pussy I’ve ever fucked” he huffed. You smirked, looking over your shoulder as you pushed your hips back to meet his thrusts  “better than your wives?”
His cock twitched and he growled, burying his hand in your hair, mushing your cheek into the glass. He angled his hips to dig into your gummy walls making you whine
”much better”
You clawed at the glass as he pounded into your pussy, your legs trembling as they tried to support his brute strength. Your thighs were sticky from your slick and you bristled as you felt the pricks of an orgasm approach.
Adam chuckled as your cunt fluttered, clenching as you grinded your hips against him. “Hehe you gonna cum? Already? I thought i trained you better than that baby” you could hear the grin that he wore on his face.
You didn’t get a chance to make a snarky remark, when he starting rubbing at your clit as he slowed his thrusts so you feel him wreck your walls.
You let out a whimper “p-please let me cum sir”, your wings unfurled from your back, curling around him. Adam used your wings as leverage to bounced you along his dick, making your tongue lull and eyes roll.
”I guess you deserve it after today. Go on baby. Cum all over my dick”
Your body tensed and a high-pitch cry left your lips as you slammed your hips against his, milking him of his own orgasm, grinding into him as your orgasm ripped through you.
You slumped against the desk, wings flapping to keep you up. Adam sighed happily as he pulled his dick out of you and watched as his cum dripped down your leg.
You hissed as he slapped your ass “asshole”
Adam chuckled, kissing your shoulder “I can fuck that too babe”
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