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pascalpvnk · 2 months

Text

take it from me

pairing: latino!joel miller x f!afab!reader

summary: joel is a simple man who simply finds pleasure in pleasing you.

warnings: moodboard used for aesthetic purposes - does not represent the reader description, 18+ MDNI, no timeline, no specified ages, no mention of sarah or ellie, LATINO JOEL (most translations within the text except for some reused pet names/common phrases). This is porn with minimal plot (but unrelated plot I canon—his favorite artist is Linda Ronstadt and I stand by it.), Joel maneuvers reader, manhandling essentially, no other descriptions of reader other than nipple piercings, body worship(?), Joel’s filthy fucking mouth, mention of thigh riding, oral (both receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, mentions of intense emotions, aftercare.

word count: 3.3k

HOW TO SUPPORT PALESTINE // IMPORTANT FOR TLOU READERS & WRITERS

a/n: fun fact, I’m a virgin, so if it seems far fetched it’s probably because it is. anyways, a special shoutout to ramon nomar for being the muse for this piece, another to @mrsswilliams for beta-ing and fueling my horny antics, thank you to my spanish teachers for guiding me to this moment (probably not your intention but I digress), and to you for taking the time to be here and hopefully enjoying! happy reading xx (banners & dividers by @saradika-graphics)

Addicting is the only word Joel Miller can muster up to describe you as his mind clouds with lust each night he’s alone, bucking into his own fist and spilling his sins after he’d met you. Of course you’re beautiful and charming above all things, but he can’t help the way his cock stirs after simply a phone call from you describing your day. How you miss him and want to meet up again soon.

Joel isn’t the brightest man, which he is very self aware of. But what he craves to learn about you, what your favorite flower is, favorite ice cream, your desires, outranks any level of intelligence a man could hold. He wants to please you, not for a superficial reason to use against you down the line. He enjoys your smile and the way your eyes crinkle, your dimple making an appearance on occasion, and it makes him feel good. The little things shine a light in his chest, ever the people pleaser.

However, he finds a red, hot desire to rouse you, make you squirm under his tender touch. To watch every fiber of control and tension dissipate from your being.

But he’s cautious.

He’s treading on thin ice within himself. He wants to give and give and give, but he’d never forgive himself if he overwhelmed and alarmed you. Your wit keeps him on his toes, tempting and trying his willpower to take things at a palatable pace.

But he’s just a man at his simplest form, a glutton for pleasure wanting to carve himself a home within you and give everything he has to please you.

You found yourself perched upon his lap, a forgotten movie droning in the background as hands and lips explore new territory. Joel firmly guided your hips, firstly against his own, then he aided you across his denim clad thigh after you wriggled your pants to the floor.

Choruses of Spanish praises, filth, ‘mamita, use me’, and phrases alike rolled off his tongue effortlessly as he found pleasure within your own. Consuming every moan, gasp, and ‘don’t stop’ you were so eager to give.

He struggled to deny your beautiful pleas to get him off as he had for you. You knew he wanted you to, there was no doubt in your mind considering the prominent bulge straining and begging you to. He reassured you, or rather made excuses for himself to ease the guilt he felt at your subtle disappointment.

I’m not coming in my jeans in front of the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.

You said you had work in the morning, anyhow. We outta get’cha home, preciosa.

Joel kissed you softly as he pulled up your pants, grabbed his keys, opened his truck door for you, waited at red lights, and finally as he dropped you off at your apartment building, sealing the night with melted wax, branding himself on your heart until you meet next.

Made it home okay, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.

And he does.

His head is already spinning at the thought of going out with you again. He’s showered, trimmed, even ironed his flannel before making sure it’s buttoned and tucked properly. Well rested is not one of the qualities he’s adorning—no thanks to you running his imagination rampant—but the adrenaline he feels, and the coffee he drank at noon, make up for his lack of preparedness.

At the end of the day, those things don’t even matter. Joel Miller makes it as far as his front door when you ring, bringing you inside with the intention of grabbing his own keys. His hands find you instead, your face in a gentle caress as he compliments your attire, your appearance as a whole, and your waist as he kisses you with increasing fervor. You don’t stop him, and he doesn’t stop himself.

“Ay dios. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you all day,” he mumbles against your neck, walking you backwards to his bedroom. His shirt wrinkles under your tight grip, suffocating him until you pop each button open one by one. You leave him in his black undershirt, half untucked in his dark washed jeans.

The back of your knees find his mattress before you even realize, forcing you to sit parallel with his waist. He takes his time, always calculated with his hands on every sweet spot he can reach. Joel cups your jaw, admiring your blown out pupils and the raw lust overtaking your features.

“Wanna take good care of ya, now,” he soothes. “Just say the word and I’ll stop, you know I’ll stop for ya, promise.”

It’s half of a promise to you, half of him asking you to promise to tell him if it becomes too much. You nod, reaching for him once again.

“No, chiquita,” he holds your hand to his chest. “¿Me prometes? You promise me?”

“I promise,” you say clearly and wholeheartedly. “On my life.”

With your renewed consent, he folds himself over to kiss you deeply. His tongue dances with yours, similarly to a few nights prior but with increased desperation. Fingertips graze up your sides, nerves twitching under his subtle touch, only unlatching your lips to lift your top over your head. His eyes fixate on the pebbled flesh and metal protruding your bra, making quick work of the clasp before removing it.

“I knew you had something hiding underneath this,” he muses, toying with the fabric of your bra between his first two fingers. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier, hm?”

Joel skims his thumbs on the underside of both of your breasts, attaching his mouth to your collarbone. He suckles your delicate skin, committing the taste of your sweet musk and desire to his memory. He softly licks over one of your nipples, taking in how your head tips back with a sigh. He brings it into his mouth, nipping and assuaging the pierced bud until you manage to free his shirt out of his waistline.

“Paciencia, amor. Patience, sweetheart, please,” he pacifies as he guides your hand out of reach from his belt. “Just wanna savor you. Can I?”

You nod and opt to tangle your fingers in his curls. Approval seeps through his smirk as he continues his ministrations for as long as he pleases, feeling accomplished each time your hips chase his.

Joel stands up straight, running his calloused hands over one of your clothed legs, meticulously pulling each shoe and sock off and tossing them to the side to find later.

“Do I need a condom, baby?” He mutters against your knee, toying with the hemline of your pants.

You tell him no and quickly explain you’re clean and protected. Something in him visibly switches, desire becoming carnal. He clings tight to his sense of control, desperately willing himself to give himself to you, not give into himself.

Joel drags both layers of bottoms down your legs, watching you challenge him by keeping them clamped together. He exhales heavily through his nose, your limbs relaxing slightly, but just enough for him to retake control.

“Christ, looks like I was wrong again,” he sighs, smoothing his flattened palms over your open thighs. You can get prettier. “Oh she’s pretty, mamita. All this for me?”

A gasp falls between your lips as you’re tugged closer to the edge of the mattress. Your head spins, the only thought crossing it is Joel. His hands. His words. His filthy mouth and how it’s mere centimeters from where you want him to be. Need him to be.

“Joel,” you whine, feeling the scratch of his blunt facial hair on your inner thighs. His lips tease the sensitive skin around your pussy.

“What?” He coos, fingernails biting your flesh. “Dime, baby. Tell me what you want.”

It feels pathetic, you’re completely at his mercy, stripped down on his bed while he remains fully clothed over you. He has you in the palm of his hand, putty waiting to be molded and shaped however he pleases. Bliss has already warped your features, the anticipation of what’s to come already numbing your brain.

“I want you,” you cry simply.

“You have me, don’t ya? I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

Frustration bubbles in your belly. You’re truly not annoyed, but the tension might snap you in half before he gets the chance to.

“Want you to touch me,” you plead. “Want you to make me come, please.”

Joel hums with content, thumbs pulling your cunt open from the outer lips. A slick, sticky mess you are, hardly touched and begging to come. Arousal seeps from you, finding its way to your tight hole. You watch Joel wet his lips, the self restraint slowly dwindling from his gaze.

“Show me,” he huffs. “Be good and fuck your hand f’me. Wanna see how you like it.”

The sound of his metal belt buckle clanking against itself is enough for your hand to fly below your hips. Relief floods your nervous system the moment you circle your clit, hips lifting and chasing the friction. Sighs leave your parted lips, eyelids falling shut with pleasure.

“Ah ah,” he corrects. “Eyes on me, beba. Sigue jugando con esa flor bonita. Mírame.” Keep playing with that pretty flower. Look at me.

You comply with his request, half lidded but maintaining eye contact nonetheless. Your fingers toy with your cunt lazily, eyes settling between his burning gaze and his taut boxers. His length strains beneath the thin fabric and his hand twitches at his side.

“I love watching you, mami,” Joel purrs. “Wish y’could see how perfect you look right now…perfectly wrecked just for me.”

His words egg you on, pace quickening on your throbbing clit. Moans spill from you as you watch Joel squeeze at his seemingly uncomfortable erection for his own relief. His other palm keeps your legs spread for him, kneading desperately at your thighs as you work yourself towards the edge.

“¿Quieres que te ayude, mamita?” Do you want me to help you?

Joel settles on his knees, both palms splayed against your skin to keep you pinned down. He licks a broad stripe from your asshole to your clit, sucking harshly on your labia before diving into your weeping cunt, all while audibly sighing with delight at your taste. Your hand instinctively rushes to grip his curls.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he grumbles while putting your hand back where he says it belongs. “Keep playing with yourself. Make this pretty pussy cry all over my face, cosa dulce.” Sweet thing.

Your digits pulse against the nerve bundle, shocked by the sensation of his tongue swirling inside of you. It’s absolutely obscene. He slurps up everything you have to give, edging you until your legs clamp over his ears. Joel sings into your cunt, a delicious melody that sends you into a frenzy. Your walls flutter around him as he guides you through your orgasm, nose nudging your hand out of the way to make more room for himself.

Your gaze drops from the ceiling to his blissful face, thick eyelashes brushing his flushed cheeks as he savors you. It all begins to feel like too much as you grip onto his shirt. You pull the cloth towards you and he gets the hint, dragging his mouth away from your pussy and removing his top.

“So desperate to come, mamita, already finished with me?” He cants, smoothing a thumb over your kneecap.

“No- just need a breath,” you pant. You take in his features, broad shoulders with a strong chest, thick arms. His hair alone has you running laps, the sparseness of it littered on his torso and below his belly button, his curls tousled already from your hands, and his beard—fuck his beard—is absolutely soaked with your arousal. He makes no attempt to wipe it clean before kissing you. The taste of your cunt dances on your tongue as he licks into your mouth.

“Joel,” you sigh, his lips leaving yours and trailing down your neck. “I wanna suck your cock, please.”

“You wanna suck it?” He smirks, slipping his hand beneath his boxers before shoving them off of his thighs. His fingers slip through your folds briefly before he deposits your cum onto the tip of his dick. Mischief plays on his expression as he opens your legs once more.

Joel slowly stuffs his cock into you, not your mouth but your pussy. A gasp escapes you, morphing itself into a moan. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him in deeper.

“Thought you wanted to suck it,” he grunts with a devilish grin, grinding his hips down into yours.

“Hmm, I’ll suck it later,” you draw out with a smile.

He leans down to suck your bottom lip into his mouth, gently nibbling on the sensitive skin before pulling off.

“God, mamita,” he exhales. “Love fucking this pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

His hips drive into yours at a devastating pace, only using a portion of his length to massage your pussy. You quickly adjust to him, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. You cry his name while simultaneously having all of the oxygen punched out of your lungs. Joel swallows your wails whole, moaning against your lips in return.

Your legs tense around his body, face twisting up with pleasure under the weight of his. Lips drag against your skin, anywhere he can reach. The room spins around you, eyes rolling back into your head as his hand snakes down to play with your clit. You desperately claw at Joel, gripping his curls in one hand and bruising his back with the other.

“Dámelo. Give it to me like I want, sugar,” Joel coaxes.

The bundles of twine prickling your flesh and holding you together in one piece snap, your body completely shattering into a million fragments underneath him. He stays buried inside you as you pulse around his cock, humming into your neck and soothing his hands over your burning skin.

Joel gently settles onto his side near you, cupping your jaw and kissing you feverishly. You shift your body to face away from him, pushing back against his soaked erection. His eyebrows furrow, grunts of detest coming from him.

“No, mami, I want to look at you while I fuck you. Ven aquí, come here,” he corrects, grasping your arm to guide you to press up chest to chest with him. A brief hiss escapes him as the cool jewelry brushes up against his nipples.

“These’ll be the death of me,” he sighs, latching his mouth to yours once more as he maneuvers you the way he wants.

His cock slips easily back into your wet heat, arms trapping your upper half against his as his legs anchor to the bed to buck into you. He grips onto your ass for leverage and you find yourself holding onto it with your own palm. It’s slower, intimate, reeling you in to take more, to take it all.

He draws another orgasm from you. Your heart thrums against his hardened chest, his pounding against the confines of his ribcage. He collapses on his back with a breathy groan, sweat perspiring on his forehead. You push back his sticky curls as he catches his breath this time.

“You still wanna suck it?” He chuckles cheekily, offering but not forcing.

He’s surprised as you eagerly crawl down his body, curling over his thigh while taking his cock in your fist. Your back is to him once more, but beggars can’t be choosers, especially while he’s stuffed in your mouth so perfectly. His fingers drag along your spine, palm splaying flat to soothe the sensation quickly after. His hand stills and stomach flexes as you take as much of him as you can, pumping your tight fist over the remainder of his length.

“Fuck me,” he shutters mindlessly, “feels so good, amor. Treating me so good.”

The praises fuel you, moaning around his tip as he continues to trace shapeless trails onto your back. Your mind feels cloudy, not thunderstorms and impending doom cloudy, but rather a sunny, breezy, nothing could ever go wrong kind of cloudy. You feel taken care of for once, free to slip into a warm, blissful state with Joel. He feels safe.

“Come back, preciosa,” he grins as you make your way back up his body. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you deeply once more, running his hands gently all over your skin as you settle on top of him.

“Missed ya,” he chuckles, kissing your swollen pout a few more times before wetting his fingertips with his spit. He reaches down, circling your clit as his cock twitches against your seam. Your head falls beside his, feeling too heavy to hold up on your own.

Joel protrudes your cunt once more, nestling into you carefully at first. You writhe over him at the push and pull of his cock inside your fluttering walls, hips snapping down against his with subtle slaps of skin rejoicing. He picks up his pace beneath you, overwhelming your senses a bit too quickly.

You work your core to sit up, fully sheathed with his length as you grind against him. He grips onto your hips, watching you use him for your own pleasure.

“Tan bonita, amor,” he hums smugly, his fingertips dancing along your bare thigh, his other hand tucked behind his head to prop himself up. “So pretty, mami, fuck.”

He tweaks his fingers against your nipples, pinching the pebbled flesh carefully as you ride his lap. Tufts of his neat pubic hair scratch at your clit, the friction of everything causing you to soak his lap further. You’re being pushed to your limits, throat dry and voice hoarse. Joel wishes to have put water on his bedside table, he would’ve had he’d known you’d end up here so quickly.

“Doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He checks in, toying with your fingers that have found a home on his chest. You silently nod, eyelids low and face contoured with bliss.

“Think you can give me one more, bebita? Come on my cock one more time and I’ll give you whatever you need.”

Your voice hardly sounds like your own, but you mean it when you tell him yes, please. He feels it when you clamp down on his length, his thighs tensing so tight they almost cramp. His legs hinge at the knee, body pivoting you forward into his chest. Joel grabs fistfuls of your ass as he fucks up into you, all of the air leaving your lungs.

His grunts and groans become less calculated and intentional, thrusts becoming sloppier and instinctual. You squeeze him tight, toes curling as you already tumble towards your impending high.

“Mierda,” he hisses, strong arms pressing your torso firmly to his. His lips consume your every breath, whine and borderline scream.

“Take it, use me, amor. Dámelo, cariño, and I’ll give you my cum. Take it from me,” he grunts sharply, pressing into you impossibly deeper and faster. Your skin bursts into flames, embers showering your body as he pulls that final high from you. You shutter above him, dead weight against his body as he uses you to finish himself off. He evacuates your warmth and pumps out his load between your sticky, worn out figures with a drawn out groan.

Joel makes the first move to stand up, cock softening and hanging between his legs. He starts to step towards his en suite bathroom to find a towel, but you reach for him.

“I’m just gettin’ somethin’ to clean you up, honey,” he smiles before seeing a sadness in your eyes, longing for him to come back. Tears prickle your eyes and Joel quickly makes his way back to the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay, baby, cálmate,” he hushes carefully, holding you close to him. “We’ll getcha cleaned up in a little bit, I’ll make you whatever you fancy for supper and relax with you, sound good?”

A nod suffices his question, knowing you trust him enough to stay rather than run off eases him as he grounds you back to reality with his warm embrace.

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#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #my writing #fic: take it from me

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sadnymi · 1 month

Note

Mattheo making a girl cum by praising her and its in class just little whispers and she dry humps him so desperately in a slytherin party he calls her bunny

「 ✦ Duel of Desires. ✦ 」

Mattheo riddle x reader

Summary (Request) : Furious at what Mattheo did in class, I set out for revenge. But my carefully crafted plan takes an unforeseen twist

Warning : Dry Humping , public sex ,fingering , dom/sub dynamics , praise kink

Words : 2.8k

A prickling sensation on my thigh interrupted my meticulous Charms notes. Glancing down, I found Matteo's hand, his fingers tracing idle patterns against the soft skin of my thigh .

A playful annoyance bubbled up inside me. Here we were, Professor Flitwick droning on about the Levitation Charm, and Matteo was turning my thigh into his own personal canvas.

"Mattheo," I hissed, swatting his hand away without breaking eye contact with the restricted professor.

He winked at me, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Just admiring your concentration, love. Makes you look positively fierce."

My cheeks flushed, not entirely from his suggestive comment. Professor Flitwick, with his booming voice and magnified eyes, felt like a hawk perpetually circling the classroom.

"Focus, Mattheo," I murmured, trying to reign in my scattered attention. Transfiguration had been a disaster this morning thanks to his constant teasing, and I wasn't about to let Charms suffer the same fate.

"But you're so much more fascinating than Levitation," he countered, his voice barely a whisper. He brushed his hand against my thigh again, this time lingering a beat longer.

Frustration bubbled over. "Mattheo! We have an exam coming up, and I need to actually learn something."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm against my ear. "Relax, love. You're a natural. Besides, who needs a wand when you have me?"

My irritation morphed into something a little more heated. This wasn't the first time Mattheo's playful teasing had crossed the line in class. The thrill of stolen moments was undeniable, but the risk of detention or worse, Professor McGonagall's withering stare, loomed large.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to play his game. Leaning in close, I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Alright, Romeo," I said, using a nickname reserved for those rare, stolen moments,"but if you distract me any further, your punishment will be far more… delightful than detention."

A surprised laugh escaped his lips. He met my gaze, his eyes darkened with desire. "Game on, then, witch."

As I attempted to focus on the lecture, a sudden touch on my knee jolted me. Glancing towards Matteo, I found him diligently transcribing the board's contents into his notebook, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of his lips. His left hand remained hidden under the table, adding to the clandestine nature of his actions.

I tried to discreetly shake my leg to deter his advances, but his hand deftly maneuvered to my thigh, securing a hold on my skirt. His touch sent a tingling sensation through me, disrupting my concentration.

Professor Flitwick's voice cut through the room, requesting me to read aloud from the textbook. Despite my racing heart, I began to read, acutely aware of Matteo's lingering touch inching closer to a more intimate area.

Despite the electrifying distraction, I forced myself to continue reading, attempting to ignore Matteo's provocative gestures. However, his subtle movements became more daring, culminating in a direct contact that made my breath hitch.

His whispered words added to the tension, leaving me flustered and unable to fully focus on the task at hand. The classroom seemed to fade into the background as Matteo's actions dominated my senses.

As Professor Flitwick instructed Matteo to continue reading, a mischievous smirk played on his lips while his hand, hidden under the table, ventured into forbidden territory. His index finger delicately teased my clit, sending a shiver down my spine as I tried to maintain composure and focus on his reading. The weight of Professor Flitwick's gaze lingered, making every movement feel amplified and dangerous.

"Thank you, Mattheo," Professor Flitwick's words acted as a temporary interruption, drawing attention away from our covert exchange.

His touch became more daring as his whole hand began to rub circles against my clit, causing me to clench my legs tightly together. “ don’t close your legs bunny “ A hushed command slipped from his lips when he ensured that Professor Flitwick wasn't observing our clandestine interaction.

"You're so beautiful when you struggle for me," he murmured, his words a tantalizing mixture of praise and provocation.

As his fingers sadly ceased their movement, I closed my eyes in an attempt to steady my racing heartbeat. Our pretense of innocence continued as we both feigned concentration, with him jotting notes in his notebook and me doing the same, all the while feeling the lingering heat from his touch between my thighs.

My quill trembled in my hand as his middle fingertip teased my entrance, a subtle reminder of the delicious tension that pulsed between us.

"You're doing such a good job," he whispered, the words dripping with desire and satisfaction.

As his finger continued its tantalizing dance on my clit, my senses heightened, and the room seemed to blur around us. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me , his right hand came to my notebook and reading what I wrote

His whisper in my ear sent shivers down my spine, his words laced with admiration. "So smart," he praised, his voice barely audible over the classroom's ambient sounds.

A soft moan escaped my lips as his finger teased my sensitive clit, drawing attention from those around us.

“Is there a problem Miss (Y/L/N)?”, Professor Flitwick's inquiring voice momentarily broke the spell

Mattheo sped up his pace and i gulped, shaking my head “Nothing just…I hit my leg.”

His thumb pressed against my clit, a silent command for me to focus, even as waves of pleasure washed over me.

"Silence, darling," he whispered, his touch igniting a fire within me, making me stand at the edge of my seat “it makes me smile when you drip like that before i even touched you “

The intense sensations brought tears to my eyes, but I fought to maintain composure, desperately searching for any distraction. ,and then I noticed his bulge deliberate flex of his thigh muscle all added to the dizzying mix of pleasure and tension I moved my hands but he catch them with his free hand .

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned firmly, his smirk evident in his voice.

Mattheo's skilled fingers pushed me to the brink repeatedly, each pause amplifying my desire. I felt like I was on the verge of losing control, his smirk and chuckle signaling his triumph.

"I admire your strength, bunny," he praised, pushing me closer to the edge. "Cum for me, pretty one," he commanded, igniting a blazing inferno within me with his mere touch. It was a paradox of ecstasy and frustration, and I cum so hard it was insane, leaving me questioning how such intense desire could be evoked with such minimal contact.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

I sat in my dimly lit room, wrapped in a cozy blanket, my favorite book lying forgotten on my lap. The decision weighed heavily on my mind—to go or not to go to the Slytherin party. Earlier that morning, Mattheo's teasing in class had left me flustered and frustrated, but now, as I replayed those moments in my head, a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

The memory of his touch, his whispered words, and the forbidden thrill of our secret interactions still lingered, leaving me feeling a delicious ache between my thighs. I pretended to be mad at him for crossing boundaries during Professor Flitwick's lecture, but deep down, I knew I was equally to blame for letting the tension build to such intoxicating levels.

As I contemplated my next move, the allure of the party beckoned to me—a chance to indulge in the forbidden, to dance on the edge of danger. I could almost feel the pulsating music, the dim lights, and the whispered promises of excitement and pleasure.

"Two can play this game," I thought, my heartbeat quickening with anticipation. The thrill of the unknown, coupled with the lingering desire from our unfinished business, fueled my decision. With a determined grin, I tossed the blanket aside and rose from my bed.

I selected a tiny, short green top , hugging my curves in a way that exuded confidence. Paired with a sleek pair of black shorts, a bold statement . Adding a touch of glamour, I applied a vibrant red lipstick that accentuated my lips, and I let my hair cascade down in loose waves, framing my face.

To balance the daring look, I threw on a large black hoodie( that won’t stay on for too long) , leaving the zipper slightly open.The contrast between the snug, the revealing outfit

Tonight, I would embrace the tantalizing dance of temptation and desire, fully aware that every step taken towards the Slytherin party would lead me deeper into the seductive web we had woven together.

"Hey, y/n! Glad you made it," Enzo greeted me with a mix of surprise and warmth as I entered the party. He glanced at me, momentarily taken aback, before announcing my presence to everyone in the room.

"Y/n's here!" Enzo exclaimed, drawing attention to me. "Matt said you were sick and wouldn't be able to come."

I flashed a smile, inwardly amused by Matteo's excuse. "I feel so much better now," I replied, playing along and maintaining an innocent facade. Despite trying to act casual, I couldn't help but notice the gazes lingering on my chest, emphasizing the alluring effect of the green top I had chosen. I met Matteo's eyes, silently acknowledging the unspoken game between us.

He was clearly irritated by the attention I was drawing, but I couldn't help but feel victorious in my little game. With a determined smile, I made my way over to where he was seated, bypassing the available seats and settling directly onto his lap.

I leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek and greeted him, "Hi, handsome." His eyes reflected a mix of frustration and anger as he tightly wrapped his arms around my waist, though I played innocently by running my fingers through his hair.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked with a harsh tone, clearly not pleased.

"Just here to see you," I replied, my gaze batting innocently at him. "Felt terrible staying angry after our little disagreement this morning." A sly smile played on my lips. "Didn't you miss me?"

Before he could reply, a voice cut through the charged atmosphere."Matteo, mate, another drink?" Jack, or perhaps that was his name, stood beside us, his gaze politely averted. A flicker of something unreadable crossed Matteo's face.

After Jack melted back into the crowd, Matteo's voice dropped to a low growl. "I see what you're doing."

I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off again. "And zip up that damn hoodie." His hand reached for the zipper, but I caught his wrist , realizing how close it was to my sensitive areas.

"No," I countered, my voice firm but playful. "It's stiflingly hot in here. Perhaps I'll just take it off ."I strategically brushed my hips against him, scanning the surrounding area for any watchful eyes. Thankfully, the party was in full swing, a blur of dancing bodies and overflowing drinks.

"Stay still," he said through gritted teeth, a hint of desperation lacing his voice.

Despite his demand for me to stop moving, I couldn't resist the temptation to tease him further. My actions were deliberate, a playful challenge to his control.

"Why? Does it bother you?" I asked, feigning innocence but knowing exactly the effect I was having on him. His grip on my waist tightened, a silent warning.

"You're playing with fire, sweetheart," he warned, his voice low and tinged with desire.

I leaned in closer, our faces mere inches apart. "Maybe I like the heat," I whispered, my lips brushing against his ear.

A startled gasp escaped my lips as his hand squeezing the plush of my ass , a possessive gesture that sent a tremor through me. The heat of his gaze seemed to sear through the carefully constructed facade of innocence, the tell-tale flush creeping up my neck a stark contrast to the coolness of the room. My breath hitched, a silent whimper escaping my lips as I unconsciously pressed closer, the frantic rhythm of our breaths mirroring the rising tension.

He could see the flustered look i had on because of the thought of being caught trying to dry-hump him. But he could see the reddened tips of my ears and hear my small whimpers along with your breaths heavying the more i pressed myself against him.

He leaned in, his lips trailing a path of fire down my neck before finding a more sensitive spot. A jolt of electricity shot through me, a strangled moan almost escaping my lips.

"Did you truly believe you held the reins, darling?" he murmured, a sardonic edge to his voice.

"Still dwelling on this morning, aren't you, my love?" His words came out in a murmured tone, a sly smirk forming at the corner of his lips. "I find this new side of you quite appealing—so eager and yearning for me that you couldn't resist acting on your desires."

He could discern the flustered expression I wore, a result of the daring move of trying to dry-hump him. Yet, he also noticed the reddened tips of my ears and heard the soft whimpers escaping me, blending with the deepening breaths as I pressed myself against him.

After a teasing kiss to my neck, his tone turned huskier as he remarked, "Did you honestly believe you were in control, bunny?"

In response, I nodded, a small whimper escaping my lips, as I ground my throbbing need against his hardened bulge. "P-please, I need you," I pleaded, my desperation evident.

"You look exquisite when you're craving my cock to fill you up, love," he whispered, his voice filled with lust and desire.

"How badly do you want me to satisfy you, baby?" He inquired, his hand moving forward to gently stimulate my neglected bundle of nerves with the pad of his thumb.

"Badly, very badly," I replied quickly, my voice trembling with desperation, as I lifted my head to meet his gaze, my eyes silently imploring him to fulfill my intense yearning.

I took a deep breath, my voice quivering with need as I angled my hips to align my still-covered entrance with his cock.

"Please," I breathed, my plea hanging in the air as he teased me, moving my hips against his bulge with his hands firmly gripping my ass.

His teasing sent shivers down my spine, making my heart race. "Please, Matt, I need you. Please stop teasing me," I begged, leaning forward to press soft kisses along his jawline and down to his neck.

A guttural groan escaped him as I sucked on his skin, leaning his head back , giving me more space marking him as mine, marks he would wear with pride the next day. "Fuck, bunny, you don't know what you're doing to me," he grunted.

His hardened cock rubbed against my clothed pussy, sending a delightful tingling sensation through my entire body. "Feels so good," I moaned breathlessly, my hand entangled in his dark hair, while I moved on him with increasing fervor.

His hips bucked against mine, his cock rubbing me just right through our clothes. "I could cum like this. Do you feel good too?" I asked, pulling his hair slightly to lift his face as I demanded his lips to meet mine. Our kiss was messy, his tongue taking the lead effortlessly.

Despite us being almost fully dressed, he made me feel incredible, my pleasure building rapidly as I rode him and rubbed my clit on his cock eagerly.

Suddenly, he took control, moving me faster. My head fell back, and I trembled heavily in his hands. "Don't stop, please, Matt. I'm close," I whimpered, my hands balling into fists on his chest, crumpling the fabric of his shirt.

He encouraged me with soft kisses, his hips bucking harder against mine, causing me to feel him twitching. That was my breaking point.

I came hard, my moans and profanities filling the air. I barely noticed how tightly I had clenched my hands into his chest, quickly withdrawing when I realized I might have left a few marks. What would our friends say? Panic started to set in.

But he cut through my thoughts, burying his face in my neck, his lips grazing against my shoulder. "Don’t panic, bunny. No one was watching, and if that makes you feel any better, I would kill anyone who did."

I smiled, reassured by his words, and felt his hands roam around my back.

"Now, lets take this to your room. Enough with the games " he said, zipping up my hoodie before standing up.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #smut

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dollfacefantasy · 16 days

Note

I want RE6 leon to fuck me until I pass out.

only a little drabble cause i'm having a hard time focusing rn but here you are cause this is real asf <3

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, overstimulation

You weren't sure what it was about tonight, or more specifically, what was up with Leon tonight. The past couple days he'd been clingier with normal, which was totally fine by you. You'd rather have him attached to your side than barely able to speak to you as was the case after a hard mission or a night when he had a bad dream.

But the clingy he'd been over the past couple days wasn't his normal clingy. It wasn't a hand constantly on your waist or swarms of gentle kisses landing at your hair line. A more accurate word to describe this would be need.

He was giving you tons of kisses, but they weren't gentle. They were open mouthed and sloppy up and down the side of your throat. His hands lingered on your body but not in a protective or loving manner. They groped and squeezed. The mere feeling of being so desired gave you the smallest spark of pleasure in your belly, but his desire for you nearly had burnt through an entire fuse.

It came no surprise to you that in the evening, his hands were snaking beneath your clothing, maneuvering your limbs around as if they belonged to a doll.

Needy kisses continued all along your throat and collar bone. Little murmurs of "just wanna feel you, baby" and "need to be inside that sweet little pussy" drifted up to your ears. Your fingers found his hair and gave it a little tug, a switch putting him into a state of no return.

Now his hand was wrapped around your throat. Your legs were bent over his shoulder. He was as deep inside you as physically possible without causing you an injury. You'd cum a few times already, pussy sore and aching but still sucking him like he was essential to your survival.

"Leon, fuck!" you cry out as his shaft continues sliding in and out of you raw, massaging all the pleasure spots that drove you wild.

He groans into the crook of your neck, biting at the skin as a way to not lose it. He didn't really know what was going on either. His stomach was doing flips at every tiny whimper you made, and his heart was locking up each time your walls fluttered around him.

"I know, honey. Just a little more. I'm almost done. I swear," he murmurs thoughtlessly.

The words were simply tools of placation. Another method to keep him safe and secure where he needed to be, balls deep inside of you.

Your back arches as much as it can in this position, and you whine like a desperate animal.

"That's my girl. I know, baby, I know. You're such a good girl, always giving me what I need," he coos in a strained tone.

His hips have a mind of their own, you know this well by now. You can feel them beginning to move like they're possessed. No regard for your pleasure, and in a way, almost no regard for his. They move purely with the drive to claim you. The deep primal part of him that ached to own you.

Your thighs quiver violently and the ability to speak with any sort of coherence is ripped away from you. It's all so much, and it's been so much for however long he's been drilling into you.

The noises coming from where the two of you connect sound throughout the room, wet and lewd. Unbridled and desperate.

You cum again at some point, but he's still fucking going. He's whimpering almost as if he's in pain. From what you can see with you're fading vision, his eyes are screwed shut and his breaths are coming out in ragged puffs.

"Baby, Jesus, I... ah- oh fuck, baby, my baby," he mumbles against your skin.

The bed below you feels as if it's on fire. Your skin burns with absolute overstimulation. Your head feels cased in a foggy container of lust. You aren't sure when it happens, but somewhere in the middle of all this, you pass out.

You're gone for a good ten seconds, head lolled back, eyes vacant, mouth parted and silent.

That's what clues Leon in that something's up. Your passionate mewls for him had abruptly faded to nothing. The hands clawing at his back had dropped away in favor of being limp on the mattress.

He pulls his head back, eyes widening when he sees your incapacitated state. But he can't stop moving his fucking hips. He so can't stop that the words "baby are you ok?" get tangled up into a whiny, humiliating groan that he's happy you most likely won't remember.

As you come to again, he cums inside of you. He throws his head back with a silent moan. Your gaze shows your disorientation but also the pleasure still coursing through you. He fucks that cum into you like it's his mission, and when he's done, you're pretty sure he's the one passed out now.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #inbox 🎀

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ilsanslut · 3 months

Text

꒷♡꒷ THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR FUCKING!

♰ art credit: eriimyon on twitter!

♰ featuring: wriothesley + neuvillette. (separate) [genshin]

♰ note: crazily enough, i’m not in heat for once, HOWEVER, i cannot, FOR THE LIFE OF ME, get over wriothelsey and neuvillette’s boots. ever since the release of fontaine, i’ve been SO DOWN BAD for those two men and the fact that neuvillette wears literal thigh highs + boots aND SO DOES WRIOTHELSEY likeee???? they’re so cunty??? like what the fuck??? i want them to ruin me fr.

sypnosis: you take your obsession with your boyfriend’s boots into your own hands. word count: 3.3k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. female/fem-bodied reader SHOE/BOOT HUMPING! name calling/degradation. spanking. praise. minor petplay themes/usage of the names: puppy, pup, mutt, bitch, etc. (wriothesley) poor reincarnated hydro sovereign being scaroused yet fascinated by human desires. minor exhibitionism (neuvillette).꒷꒦

when you first mentioned what you wanted to do with wriothesley's boots to him, he laughed in your face—not maliciously, but simply amused—because he could tell from your longing stares that there was something more to the way you were practically drooling at him. so, to find out that this is what you had in mind all this time, he was not opposed to it. in fact, he was utterly fascinated to partake in your little fantasy alongside you.

“you got it, baby.” his smooth voice would come from above you as you sank to your knees before him.

your sheepish gaze lifted to meet his, and you felt yourself clench around nothing from the look in his eyes. his eyes were full of wild, unbridled lust as he peered down at you with a half-lidded gaze and salacious smirk. he was relaxing back against his large office chair, the golden lining around the red velvet making him appear kingly and regal from your position, perched on your knees like his consort. his legs were spread wide, making room to accommodate you, allowing you to take in the way his muscular thighs bulged from beneath his tight slacks, nearly bursting their well-tailored seams. he was so effortlessly hot that it drove you insane.

“c’mon, y/n.” he spoke to you, maneuvering his leg until he was able to nudge your panty-clad folds with the steel toe of his boots, causing you to immediately whine at the sudden contact and grip his calf for support. his smirk only grew, cruelly grinding the toe against your sensitive clit. “you wanted this, and yet you’re making me do all the work? take those panties off and get to it already, babe.”

you nodded, rising onto your knees, albeit shakily, as you hooked your thumbs into the waistline of your panties and pulled them down your thighs until you could discard them beside you. afterwards, both of your hands wrapped around wriothlesy’s bulky calf, and used the leverage to lower yourself onto the smooth leather of his boot’s surface. as the cool leather settled against your heated clit, your hips lurched forward while a startled squeal escaped your lips from the unexpected contact.

wriothesley was quick to soothe you, placing his hand atop your head to smooth your hair back against your crown. he lifted your chin just enough to meet your gaze, silently observing whether you were alright or if you were having any second thoughts. you responded by simply lowering your hips onto the leather of his boots again, whimpering as your puffy folds squished against the leather.

keeping your hands wrapped around his legs for purchase, you slowly but surely rocked your hips against the smooth leather, instantly becoming overwhelmed by a wave of euphoria. despite the boot's steel toe, the surface was even and soft. not to mention the excess thick stitching from a rhombodious design embroidered on top, which caused you to bump your clit against the rough, dull edge with each raunchy rock. the friction was nearly mind-numbing.

a chorus of sultry sighs left your mouth before you pulled your bottom lip between your pearly whites to muffle the sound. you felt a wave of shame wash over you as you realized what a depraved act you were committing. wriothesley, however, wasn’t having any of it.

his partially-gloved thumb met your lip, pulling the soft flesh free from your teeth. in an instant, his large palm was cupping your chin as thick digits squished your cheeks with enough force to pucker your lips. your gaze rose to meet his own, which was now boring down into you, steely and cold.

“now, now, being shy, are we?” the faintest hint of a mocking, snide smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked down at you from the bridge of his nose, as if you were inferior to him. something about the cruel, haughty look in his eyes as he glowered down at you caused your pussy to clench, your juices shamelessly squirting between your folds and his boot as your arousal became unbearable. you could barely utter a sentence in response, too desperate to chase your release as you continued to hump your messy pussy against his boot like a rutting puppy.

“you certainly weren’t shy when you were gawking at me like some kind of sex toy while squeezing those pretty thighs of yours—" he paused, quickly bending at the waist to pop two quick swats against your bubbly rear and thigh to accentuate his point, relishing in the sharp squeals that emitted from your lips afterwards. “—together like some bitch in heat, now were you?”

you warbled, an incoherent cacophony of pleas for him to be nice to you competing with your pleas for him to spank you again harder, amidst your pleasure moans, unable to say anything else. so, he answered for you.

using the grip on both your chin and cheeks, he nodded your head up and down like a ventriloquist manipulating his prettiest puppet.

“yeaah, i’m right aren’t i?” his words were dragged out like a mocking hum, and that amused smirk finally emerged in the form of a salacious, sly grin that spread across his lips, exposing his pointed canines.

you nodded for yourself this time, tears springing from the corners of your eyes as the pleasure you felt building within you began to grow to much for you to bear, your thighs quivering around his boot as your clit throbbed against the now ruined leather.

“so don’t you fucking dare hide these precious little sounds from me again, got it? you’re going to let everyone outside of this office know that the duke’s girlfriend is a needy little slut who gets off on rutting her pretty pussy against his boots like a naughty little puppy. understand?”

you nodded, thin lines of translucent drool beginning to pool over your blushing brims as your vision grew blurry, barely able to decipher the reality around you as the knot in your tummy grew tighter with every sloppy, needy hump of your hips.

“y-yes, wriothesley— mpfh! f-fuck, please, m’gonna cum, i can’t—!”

“—don't fuckin' back out now.” with a snarl, he interrupted you, releasing your cheeks to grasp your hair and force your gaze onto his. “come on, princess. make a mess all over my fuckin’ boot.”

and you did exactly that. with an uneasy, sloppy final stuttering of your hips, you finally came undone from your depraved acts. with your nails digging deep cresents into the leather straps that held his boots taut around his calves, the knot in your belly finally released it’s tension, allowing you to fall into the sweet bliss of your orgasm. your voice echoed through the steel chambers of his office as immeasurable warmth and pleasure washed over you, misting your senses. your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, your panting, heaving breaths creating puffs of condensation against the steel that encircled the front of his thighs, where your cheek was now nestled. you could feel your clit throbbing against the ruined leather of his boot, your juices squelching out of you and smearing against both his boot and your folds in an obscene manner. a manner that made a satisfied, smug smirk arise on wriothesley’s lips.

soon enough, you came down from your high with his large hand stroking along your tresses, coaxing you along the whole way. when your shrill mewls turned into breathless pants and occasional whimpers, his hand would find itself on your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek in an endearing fashion.

“there you go. y’did so good for me, princess.” his smooth, baritone voice calmed you, bringing you back to reality from the high heavens.

you mumbled a feeble "thank you" for him allowing you to indulge in your fantasies while nestling your cheek against his soothing touch.

he laughed at this, deep and throaty, as he slipped his foot from beneath your messy folds, chuckling at the high-pitched whine that ripped from your lips as he did so.

“you’re welcome, precious . . . but you do know how things work around here in the fortress, don’t you?”

his voice had dropped an octave with a suggestive undertone, prompting you to open your eyes and peer wearily up at him with a confused glint. he met your gaze with a lascivious narrow, slowly removing his hand from your cheek and dragging it languidly over his own thigh until it rested atop the prominent bulge that had recently formed in his slacks. your mouth watered at the sight of his painfully erect cock threatening to burst through his zipper at any moment now. it seemed as though he enjoyed your little show just as much as you did.

“what is once graciously given, another must receive in return.”

“you want to what?” neuvillette would inquire, pausing mid sip from his silver chalice containing the finest water in fontaine as he peered you incredulously—an emotion rarely present on his otherwise stoic and aloof visage.

being the iudex of fontaine, he has seen all counts of life and even the darkest parts of humanity present in the courtroom. he even went out of his way to better understand you, your likes, your dislikes, your interests, your kinks, and your deepest desires. when dealing with humans, he knew to never be surprised by whatever they could have in store for him, but nothing could’ve prepared him for your anything-but-innocent inquiry.

what made matters worse is that you couldn't even explain where this desire stemmed from or why you wanted to perform such a lewd act—not to him—but rather to his boots of all things. luckily for you, your lover was a curious being, no matter how much he seemed otherwise.

wordlessly, he placed his chalice atop his large oak desk before scooting his chair back to make enough room to accommodate you. silently, he raised a hand, gesturing to the space between him and his desk, inviting you to sit. your gaze rose, meeting his own, only to see that there was an essence of carnality present in his bright periwinkle eyes.

“come.” he ordered, his voice bellowing with the faintest of echos in the spacious chamber of his office. his hand turned, his gloved index finger pointing to the carpeted floor beneath his feet. “show me.”

like a sacrificial lamb being offered to the shrine, you hesitantly pranced around the large oak desk until you came to stand before your sovereign lover, just as he had asked. his legs spread wide, both of his knees resting mere inches away from both of your thighs. your gaze fell to the ground, admiring his expensive shoes with regal gold rivets branded on the tips. thinking about the cool metal and how the smooth ridges would feel on your clit, your thighs squished together as you felt your arousal brewing between them—an action that immediately drew neuvillette's attention.

“you know i’m a busy man, and yet here you are, hesitating when i’m giving you exactly what you desire.” the deep rumble of his voice drew you from your reverie, drawing your attention back to him, only to see that he was now leering at you from where his head rested on his balled fist. his free hand rose, gently ecircling his large palm around your hip, his thumb rolling slow, titillating circles against the bone. you could feel the slightest of unsteady trembles in his grip, almost as though he were refraining from taking you right then and now atop his desk.

“do you intend to continue to waste both of our time, or will you finally kneel and act on your licorous endeavors?”

a meager apology tumbled from your lips, and you finally gathered the courage to lower yourself to your knees before him, both of your thighs straddling his right boot. one of your hands wrapped around his spat covered calf, steadying yourself as you hovered above his shoe, already feeling the coolness of the riveted, feathered-diamond design beneath your heated core. pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you grabbed at the seat of your panties and pulled them to the side, watching as a thin strand of your translucent arousal already leaked onto his shoe.

you let gravity take control of you, allowing it to push you down until you sank against the cool leather and smooth gold of his shoes. as the underside of your sensitive pearl rested on the smooth ridge of the steel, contrasting blissfully with the strapping leather, a shuddering sigh escaped your brims. you had only imagined what his shoe would feel like beneath your folds, but this was beyond any expectations you could’ve had. without wasting any more time, you slowly ground your hips to and fro along the surface of his shoe, each sensuous drag of your puffy folds against chilled steel and leather drawing a mewl of bliss from your brims.

above you, you heard your draconic lover chuckling in a cacophony of emotions: amusement, fascination, and, most of all, incredulity.

“humans.” he sighed mirthfully, a fond smile on his face, as he watched you rut against his shoe like a needy puppy in need of proper discipline. “your kind never ceases to amaze me with their intricacies—you included, starlight.”

you could only manage a whimper in response, your words becoming garbled and incoherent as you attempted to utter a formulated sentence amidst your writhing but failed horribly.

“what’s that, love?” he was having fun with this now—something about witnessing your sinful plight warming his water-tight heart. “use your words, darling. don’t tell me you’ve gone stupid on me already."

you glowered at him from under your lashes, your lips forming an indignant pout as your cheeks burned from his taunting and your embarrassment. your mouth opened—not to release more of those sweet moans that were music to his ears—but instead to shoot back a brazen retort, when all of a sudden, you were cut off by raucous knocking on his office door that captured both of your attention.

“monsieur.” a flat, feminine voice spoke from the other side—one that you both recognized.

clorinde.

immediately, you froze. your nails dug into the fabric of neuvillette’s spats as your hips stilled, your body trembling from the way your clit throbbed against chilled steel, aching for you to continue and bring you your sweet, sweet release.

your gaze shifted to his, and you noticed that all amusement had vanished from his eyes, leaving only a fleeting trace of unease behind them. placing your weight on your knees, you made a move to push yourself up so that the both of you didn’t get caught in your nefarious actions, but you were stopped.

a hand, gentle yet firm, placed itself atop your head, preventing you from rising but mere centimeters off of his shoe. confusion washed over your features, as you were shocked that he had stopped you knowing that someone else had just arrived, but everything became clear when you noticed the lecherous glint in his now narrowed eyes.

he needn’t utter a word to you to convey his intentions. instead, he arched his foot, causing the tip of his arousal-slickened boot to once again meet your sopping folds, eliciting—what would have been—a startled squeal from you if you had not muffled the sound by shoving your face into his knee. your pleasure-stricken, pleading eyes met his own, begging for mercy at the prospect of being caught in the act by not only your friend but also his closest subordinate, but his order was clear.

he wanted you to continue, regardless of your newfound audience.

and who were you to disobey the iudex’s orders?

it was only when you succumbed to his will by sinking yourself back onto his shoe and resuming your sloppy pace that he said anything else.

“enter.”

the sound of heavy oak swinging open, followed by the dull tutting of sharp heels against carpeted tiles, effectively sealed your fate. you tried your damnedest not to draw suspicion from the extremely perceptive woman by keeping your sinful mewls quiet, but as your orgasm drew nearer, the effort became not only more difficult but also taxing. daring a glance neuvillette's way, you could only smolder in silent, seething envy at how composed he remained, as if his lover were not riding his shoe within an inch of her life beneath him.

"i have completed the report on the recent fatuus trial that you requested. the one where he failed to best me in a duel before the trial carried on as normal."

her voice was so close, so unassuming. the sound of a sudden weight striking the oaken surface indicated that she was only a short distance away from the desk, probably dropping a heavy folder on it.

your cunt could not help but gush at the allure of it all—you grinding your pretty pussy against the now-tainted leather of your lover's shoe, right under the duellist's nose. the pressure behind your abdomen had begun to build, threatening to burst at any moment. you prayed to whatever higher being was listening that clorinde would not hear the downright debaucherous sound of your pussy squelching against his steel tip.

“hm, i see.” you could hear the inquisitiveness in neuvillette’s tone as he spoke, flipping through the pages of clorinde’s report to skim over the report that would be gone over later in greater detail. “thank you, this is very much appreciated.”

whatever clorinde uttered in response, you couldn’t hear or see. the tiniest of breathless squeaks emitted from your lips as your hips drew forward with one more quivering drag, finally delivering you over that cliff to your sweet, sweet, blissful salvation. you would have to apologize later for the deep teeth marks you left on neuvillette's spats, which were accompanied by a sharp and sudden clearing of his throat to warn you of those misbehaving pearly whites. you were powerless to stop it, though. that was the only thing keeping you from being exposed in this manner and losing the last shred of your dignity.

languidly and sloppily, you rode out those last few serene waves of your orgasm before finally slipping back to reality—one that was about to drop a rude awakening onto you.

“oh, and monsieur?” clorinde's voice echoed throughout the chamber as if she had already moved to the other side. when had she arrived over there?

“hm?” neuvillette responded, his hand casually returning to your head and stroking over your locks to coax you through those blissful waves in an endearing fashion.

“the next time you and y/n are intimate, could you please not accept guests during your private sessions?”

you could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed.

defeated, you deflated against your lover’s thigh with an audible groan, to which neuvillete would in turn reply with a chuckle of his own, offering a nod of confirmation the duellist’s way.

“so we’ve been told. thank you once again, clorinde.”

her departure was signaled by the heavy doors swinging shut, leaving you and your draconic lover all alone once more. with your cheek pressed against his inner thigh, you peered up at him, mortification evident in your eyes. except for a reassuring pat on your opposite cheek, neuvillette, however, did little to ease your displeasure.

“making a mess of yourself and my shoes, and getting not only yourself but the both of us caught, y/n? by our champion duellist no less?” he tutted at you, one hand coming to his wrist to peel off his gold-riveted gloves, revealing scaled and oceanic blue-tainted hands.

when you realized what his words and actions meant, your heart dropped into the deepest recesses of your stomach, festering with the butterflies that had begun to flutter.

“n-no, i didn’t mean—”

a mere glare was all it took to effectively silence you, your lips pressing shut against one another as you nearly flinched from the severity. you would be lying if you said that your clit didn’t throb with anticipation for whatever he held in store for you.

“stand. i do believe you’re in need of a proper punishment, darling.”

would you guys like a part two with different characters? mayhaps a cute lil' series? name a few characters down below or inbox me! ♡

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #wriothesley smut #neuvillette smut #wriothesley #neuvillette #genshin wriothesley #genshin neuvillette #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley headcanons #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #vampiiebitez

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wifeofasith · 3 months

Text

WARNINGS — Anakin × Fem!Reader, Dom!Anakin × Sub!Reader, ovulation, masturbation, breeding kink, pet names (love, baby), verbal degradation, humiliation, swearing (fuck, slut, cockslut, bitch), oral sex (m), fingering (f), pain kink, impact play (face slapping), manhandling, brief dacryphilia, brief dub-con, drooling, mentions of cum, clit play, creampie.

WORDS — 2.3k

Imagining Anakin with your own fingers rubbing onto your clit was a nightmare. It was agonizing torture to experience pleasure that was nowhere close to the feeling of his nine-inch cock rubbing against your cervix. Especially now that the moon has shifted and your womb is pulsing with the need for his seed.

Anakin has quite literally ruined you and your body, molded it into its own personal plaything that couldn’t get satisfaction without him. His touch was a remedy for everything —fear, anger, sadness — but it was especially skilled at calming your need to be fucked dumb.

Haunted by the inability to get yourself off and get rid of ovulation cravings in the process, you make your way to Anakin’s home office, where he’s been studying some dull Jedi scrips you had no interest in. The room was dimly lit by a single torchiere, which left a soft cast of light on Anakin’s scrumptious body. Peeking through the partially opened door that he’s purposely left for you, watching the soft frown between his eyebrows and the way his exposed forearms tensed while flipping the papers, you didn’t even notice how your hand slipped past your panties again. The absurdity of the situation was what made your walls clench extra tightly around your amateur digit — so desperate, you had no other choice but to secretly watch your own boyfriend.

Your head partially pressed against the doorframe, one eye peaking and savoring Anakin while your finger messily maneuvered around your clit, you couldn’t believe Anakin was still oblivious to your deed. Especially when your wetness has long ago seeped past your underwear and is now making a pathetic sloshing sound, which only fuels your desire.

“Come here, love.” Anakin’s voice drags you out of your fantasies; he pats his thigh, calling you as if you were a dog. If your hand wasn’t glued to your pussy, you would definitely follow the command instantly.

Even with your brain dumbified by all the hormones, it was quite easy to realize that Anakin indeed had it all figured about your activities. His nonchalant behavior, however, was surprising and not decipherable for your little head.

“Come on, hands off yourself and come, I won’t ask again."

This time, you move. Wiping the remains of yourself on the back of your skirt, you follow the soft light inside the room and display yourself in front of Anakin with pouted lips and a suspicious gleam in your eyes.

Anakin slides the papers aside and turns his chair to face you. Familiar heavy stare of desire filling you with the feeling of inferiority, even if he’s the one sitting below your eye level. He remains mute as he reaches out to dig his fingers into the supple flesh of your thighs.

“Wanna tell me why you’ve been humping every corner of the house the whole fucking day?” He asks as he slides his warm hand across your skin, brushing the very bottom of your ass with his fingertips.

“I’m just—”

“A bitch in heat.” He cuts you off, grabbing your butt-cheek at the same time as the sharp words sting your dignity. “Say it.”

Before you can open your mouth again, his fingers slip past the crotch of your panties, hooking under it and pulling it aside, allowing two metal digits to slide past the brim of your wetness as his other hand is welcomed under your skirt.

“I’m a—AH!” Your knees buck when the cold edges scratch at your walls; not even your pooling arousal relieves the bittersweet tingle.

“What’s wrong?” He asks with a voice of mock pity. “Needy cunt shuts you up, mmm? Can’t speak unless I fuck my cum in you?” His fingers move at a slow but forceful pace, each powerful stroke making you trip over your words.

“A-A-Ani-i-i s-stop!” You grab at his wrist, trying to pause the movement, which only encourages him to create a more agonizing pace.

“What was that? Harder?” He slaps your hand off his, intensifying the pumping into your hole. Creamy juice drips down his wrist as he’s tearing at your insides with an insensitive, artificial touch. And all you’re capable of is whimpering and letting him satisfy his sadistic needs.

Your eyes are clouded with tears of pleasure, yet the limited sight allows you to see the tightness of his pants, covering his hardening shaft from your view. You can’t help but create a mental image, replacing the mechno-fingers with his nine-incher. That’s when your sore pussy finally starts clenching down around him, making the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

When Anakin frees his hand out of your grasp, there is no other response than whimpering at the loss of delight between your legs. He doesn’t acknowledge your desperation. Raising his hips up slightly, he frees himself off his pants, letting them sit midway his thighs. Following the hint, you try to make your way on top of him, climbing into his lap while pushing your skirt up — ready to receive the reward you’ve been craving since eight in the morning.

“What are you doing?” Anakin asks, looking at you with his eyebrows slightly up, an expression of mockery.

You bite your lip, surprised by the sudden change of events. Your eyes bore into his, looking for a sign to proceed before your pussy grows cold.

Anakin smiles at you, seemingly holding in a small chuckle. His hand reaches back for your cunt, but instead of entertaining it further, he gently pats you twice. “Get on your knees.”

Frustrated, you slide your knee off the chair, standing back up between his now spread legs. You give him a needy stare, speechlessly begging for mercy.

“I know that look, baby.” He finally speaks, his fist wrapping around his length to smear the precum over the sensitive skin. “Unfortunately, little sluts don’t get their wombs used, get down." He points to the floor. Hypnotized by the way his hand squeezed the swollen tip with each stroke, you lower yourself.

Wasting no time, Anakin’s hand grabs the back of your head, pulling you into his crotch. Your lips settle at the base under his cock, resting it across your face as you stare at him, glossy eyes blinking in a silent plea. He strokes your hair, admiring the view.

“You wanted it, didn’t you?” The grip tightens, making sure you are locked in a humiliating position.

Without receiving an answer, Anakin guides himself past your lips, sliding in slowly as your throat and walls pulse in unity, one at the stretch and the other at the lack of it. He lets out a satisfied groan as the warmth of your mouth surrounds his painfully swollen dick.

“Fuuuck, what a tight little hole—” He curses, eyes staring up as his eyebrows furrow slightly. If you hadn’t been so depraved of him fucking you properly, you would have enjoyed the sight of his pleasure.

He doesn’t bother to use his hips as his hand guides your head up and down his length, each stroke appearing to be impossibly deeper than the earlier. Suffocating from the tears and salty precum spilling all over you, there is no other choice but to claw at his thighs as you try not to pass out from the intense feeling of your throat being stretched out and adjusted to the size of him.

“You’re fine, take it.” He groans, not switching the pace. He glances down at you, chest rising and falling as he uses you to his heart’s content. The sight of you drooling all over his dick without having a say in it made him feel like a god. He owned you.

Feeling him twitching inside you, you sense the end of your torture is near. As you brace yourself to receive his load, Anakin suddenly slides all the way out.

While your body greedily gasps for air, he tugs on your hair, making your head bend backwards without any remorse for your fucked-out state. His hand reaches up to slap across your cheek, grounding you.

“Now let’s try again. What are you?” He speaks, the same harsh tone making it obvious that he’s not a bit disturbed by his ruined orgasm.

Sniffling the tears away, your lips struggle between his fingers. “I’m a b-bitch in heat—” Your stuttering earns you another slap, followed by the return of the harsh grip.

“Again.” He says, lips in thin line, as he waits for your obedience.

“A bitch in heat!” You repeat it more clearly, trying to satisfy him by fighting the need to cough. Another slap is delivered to the same cheek, this time making you twitch and hiss in pain.

“Yeah? That’s what you are, isn’t it?” Anakin takes more pleasure in abusing your cheek, each strike forcing you to gasp and sob as your head rested inches away from his still throbbing cock. “Stupid cockslut, each month the same thing, your needy cunt begging for cum, need to breed so bad, hm? Say it again.”

“I’m a bitch in heat!” You say loudly, trying to make him stop and finally give you what you actually need.

Anakin seems to be snapped out of his trance by how loud and desperate your voice was. His hands grip your wrists, pulling you up to your feet. He doesn’t speak as he turns you around, bending you over his desk. Rough hand at your neck, pushing your face into the long-forgotten documents, which will soon be stained by your drool and tears.

He yanks your skirt and underwear down with one tug, his own pants sliding a bit lower in the process, allowing him more freedom of movement. Not waiting for your whines, he stuffs your pussy full, thick length splitting you open, fitting perfectly between your soft heat. Anakin’s instantly covered in your arousal, juices wrapping around him, making it easier to slip back inside with each sharp thrust.

“'S what you wanted, huh?” His hands grab your hips, raising you so your legs dangle while he ravages your hole. “What do you say? Let’s shut this tight cunt up for the next nine months.”

Anakin’s words made you spasm rapidly around him. Your body, determined to get knocked up, didn’t even bother to consider what your non-hormonal brain thinks about it, so when he asked the question, you couldn’t help but cry multiple begs about how you need to be filled up. You’ll worry about it later.

“Yeah? Say it again: What was that you wanted me to do to you?” He pounds away his pent-up frustration as you gather enough strength to speak through the quivering of your whole body.

“Ani, please! Need you to— ah! Come inside—!”

Hearing your trembling voice begging to be fucked full, his hips slap against your butt-cheeks with greater force. You feel Anakin’s chest press against your back, the warmth of his skin easing the way your insides bruised in the shape of each vein on his shaft. His moans and grunts of pleasure go straight into your ear in a new-found position. The room is full of lewdness: a wooden floor stained with love juices and spit, desk scratching the wall with each pump of Anakin’s cock, your pussy sloshing around it, struggling to accommodate his size comfortably but taking every inch without a whimper of displeasure.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck— S’ like that, take it, fucking slut!” He swears, grunts mixing with whimpers. The more he curses, the messier and more out of order his thrust becomes, signaling his inevitable release.

His hands snake around you. One finds his way to your clit and instantly begins rubbing it messily, causing your whole body to shake violently. His other arm reaches all the way across your chest to grab on your shoulder from under you, making sure you’re pressed nice and tightly against him with no chance of slipping off his cock until he’s fucked you full of cum.

“Aaaani, don’t stop—!” You beg when the tingle at the very bottom of your tummy seems to be unknotting slowly. Your hands reach to hold onto the one that’s squeezing your shoulder.

“Gonna cum, fuck, fill this pussy up, yeah? Want my cum baby? Yeahhh— Gon’ breed you properly—”

With the last strength left in his body, he proceeds to piston short and hard strokes into you while his fingers work furiously over your clit to bring you to your own pleasure. Anakin’s fingers dig into your skin, forehead leans tightly against the back of your head, his deep groans are mixing with desperate whimpers as his pleasure is reaching its peak.

“C’mon baby, don’t stop squeezing me, that’s it— fUCK, yeah— Baby—!”

With the last deep moan against your skin, you feel hot ropes of cum shooting all the way inside you, tainting your spongy walls with white. Your own orgasm follows when you feel his cock spasming with release. Curling your toes, your whole lower body trembles against him, unraveling the intense feeling of pleasure deep between your folds. Anakin’s fingers dedicatedly abuse your sweet bundle of nerves until your shaking subsides completely and you grow limp on top of the desk, your feet finally lowering to the ground.

Anakin lays on top of you, still holding you tightly against his chest to prevent your weakened body from sliding down to the floor. Still deep inside you, his entire weight squeezes you in a protective embrace while he’s slowly going soft, basking in the mix of your and his cum. When both of your heavy breathing seem to finally cease, his lips press against the back of your shoulder with a deep sigh.

“Think I fucked the slut out of your cunt for good?”

#mdni #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin smut #anakin imagine #anakin one shot #anakin x fem reader #anakin x reader #anakin x reader smut #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #star wars smut

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paintedkinzy-88 · 1 month

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You have no idea how long this took me. Not because it was hard, so to speak, but because I had nO TIME TO DRAW IT---

BUT. It's done. Congrats to the one person who guessed Leo could use portals to fly -- that was like. A huge plot point I wanted to delve into.

It's not satisfying to him, so to speak. As he says, it's not ACTUALLY flying. There’s not a lot of control here, he can’t maneuver or turn without needing another portal boost. Plus, he doesn't exactly LIKE the feeling of falling, knowing that should he screw up, should he not catch himself, or should his portals fail him like they do oh so often, he doesn't have any natural way to save himself... A fear that was only truly realized after Draxum tossed him off a roof.

However, the method helps ease his desire a bit. It's something he'll do for hours at night, when he can't sleep, until he's exhausted his mystics or the feeling of freefalling just gets to be a little too much for him. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

#he also likes finding new places to leap from #or if theres no cliff/tree/building to jump off of #and he just wants to soar above say #the amazon trees or something #he can also do the infinite fall thing with his portals to gain the momentum #he doesn't like it though #rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo hamato #dragon au #dragon!leo #tmnt #tmnt leonardo #rise!leo #leonardo fanart #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt comic

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captain-camille · 2 months

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_𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞_

‣ Jack Sparrow x f!reader

‣ As a young woman of noble blood, society is a golden cage. There is no mention of you unless the subject is marriage or manners while your trip to Port Royal has become a rescue maneuver. One faithful night aboard the Dauntless you finally snap. And meet the captive Captain Jack Sparrow...

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 18+ language, old society rules, emotional chaos, very light angst ‣ 3,4k words

Your dress weighed heavy on your shoulders, the corset strangled your lungs to a delicate point where you began to feel dizzy.

Silver cutlery laid untouched next to your empty plate. The hunger had long passed.

Either way was it impossible to properly eat with this torture device crushing your ribs. You would fetch a banana later.

“Miss Sheffield“ Lord Somerset hardly drew your attention while he adjusted his white wig “I find myself greatly invested in the many stories of your brother. They're indeed impressive, are they not?“.

It took nerves to hinder your eyes from rolling.

Instead, you gave him an appreciative but short nod. There was bitter sarcasm within the subtlety of your gesture.

Another man's head, adorned with a teal hat with feathers, turned towards you. Father.

“They are, clearly“. You verbally lend weight to your faux-assent as your father's stern gaze fixed on your face.

You suspected him pleased now.

However, his interest in you promptly vanished and a song of praise of someone else continued to fall from his pale lips.

Sweet, boisterous praise for your great brother, of course.

You were sick of it but with time had begun to see it as an opportunity to reign over your own life as freely as possible.

For as long as possible.

Every eye and word was on your brother while you, the sister of the new Governor of Nassau and member of the Privy Council, were neigh invisible.

And still you could never leave the shiny prison that was the English noble society. Like living in a nightmare that had occasional sunlight in it but was full of madness anyway.

As the men's triumphant laughter echoed across the room, you pictured how Davy Jones' Locker would be a better place to bide your time.

Or maybe you should run away and live a seamstress' life. Alternatively, a barmaid.

In the corner of your vision you saw Norrington slightly leaning over to you. The new Commodore stationed in Port Royal, as he was.

“You look fabulous tonight, Miss“ he cooed, voice low.

His blue gaze rested on the glittering necklace you wore. A collective of silver, sapphires and pearls Lord Somerset had gifted you upon boarding the Dauntless.

Or perhaps Norrington's gaze laid on your cleavage but if so, he concealed it well.

He had to. Hell would come upon him.

You flashed him a polite smile and a demure “Thank you, Commodore“ before your eyes wandered off to the sea that was painted in the colors of a tropical sunset.

The windows were small but still incapable to diminish the glimmer. It went straight to your heart...

“Since you are a young woman, too-“ the man continued, hoisting a chalice to his lips. Beneath the table, your hand balled in a fist.

It did little to soothe your nerves, though.

“-I wondered whether you would think Elizabeth liked such jewelry as, um, a wedding gift?“ his smooth voice asked but the hesitant tone betrayed him.

You had long seen it in his eyes that Norrington's desires to marry Swann's daughter weren't as honest as he tried to make it seem.

Just as Elizabeth struggled to let go of the young blacksmith Will Turner she was currently trying to rescue.

Just fellow souls lost in this noble dilemma, you almost chuckled to yourself.

Luckily, you were quick enough to bridle any inner jests and looked back in Norrington's eyes.

“I’m most certain she would be delighted. However, it occurred to me that Miss Swann prefers silver to gold.“ you advised him before he got dragged back into a naval discussion with the men.

Not even thanks were left for your input.

Once again your brother's name was thrown around like a cricket ball.

The urge to just leave this charade of a dinner grew stronger while darkness began to fall upon the majestic Dauntless.

Candle light reflected in the men’s white and grey wigs like it would in the feathers of doltish pigeons.

Nearly scoffing, the focus of your eyes blurred.

Thoughts wandered off to the small bits of information you had grasped throughout the last two days; a business trip to Port Royal had turned into quite an amusing rescue maneuver as Norrington spotted the smoke signal Elizabeth was sending from a lonely island.

She was brought onto the ship along with a mysterious pirate who turned out to be none other than the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow.

Lord, he seemed so different to the men you were used to. So interesting…

“Yn, the Lord's question was, would you be his companion on a visit to your brother?“ The raspy voice of your father suddenly cut through your thoughts like a sharp knife.

You cleared your throat, hiding a muttered “god, no“ along the cough.

No, you simply couldn’t do this any longer tonight.

Tomorrow morning the misery would begin anew and the nights were too short anyway.

Dinner was over for you, you decided and shot up, heading towards the door.

“Young Miss, where do you think you are going?“ your father called across the room, causing you to spin and face him along with everyone else seated on the grand table.

An unreadable expression settled on your face, lips moving on behalf of your temper.

“Father, I do believe you won’t miss me much while conversing solely about my brother“.

Norrington let out a shaky breath, his head turning to expect your father’s answer. Obviously, he was used to Elizabeth's docile manners.

The grey wig beneath Lord Sheffield's hat shifted slightly as he cocked his head.

He looked ridiculous.

“Then go, yn. I do not have the time nor the patience for your behavior right now“ he sighed, waving his hand in an enervated gesture of dismissal “Check on Miss Swann when you pass by“.

The stingy sensation of the corset fighting your big breaths vexed you, along with your father's aloof attitude.

Nevertheless, he granted you exactly what you wanted; to leave and mind your own business.

A business that had preferably sparsely to do with these men.

“Thank you, sir. I will“ you curled your lips, forcing a hasty smile before your knees bent in a curtsy. “Lord Somerset, thank you again for the generous gift. Commodore“.

The Lord stood up with his chest puffed, trying to address you. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Sheffield. I wish you a good-“

But the rest of his irrelevant set-phrase was cut off by the door closing behind your back. It snapped shut with a soft rock of the Dauntless.

As if she felt sorry for you.

Taking a big breath of the fresh sea breeze your tongue finally spoke some truth. “Damn you, Somerset“.

It felt good, even if it did little to improve your situation.

You knew you had to get away from the cabins or else your words of pent-up frustration would eventually find them.

Maybe you would find solace on the quarterdeck instead?

As you marched up the stairs with a grimace on your face from how impractical the heavy dress was, a young maid brushed past you with filled wineglasses on a silver tray.

She smiled with respect, but could barely hide her excited look at the luxurious necklace.

Her soft lips parted when she spoke up in awe “If I may, Baron Somerset really is doting upon you, Miss“.

At her comment, the matching earrings with the similarly cut sapphires began to itch.

“So it seems“ you answered flatly, still trying your best not to let it all out on the innocent girl.

“I happen to have overheard him talking about how beautiful your children would be“ she added with enthusiasm, unaware of your aversion to said nobleman.

You felt your gut twist and tighten at the vision alone.

Children with this man? No.

On the brink of screaming or crying, your hand flew up to grab one of the glasses.

“Did he now?“ You hoisted it and bathed your upper lip in the sweet taste of Portuguese wine “Golden me“.

Hearing her colleague call for her, the maid quickly curtsied and made her way down to the main cabin.

You sighed heavily, taking another sip.

Up on the spacious quarterdeck you wasted no time, set the glass down on a random barrel and began to take off your earrings.

They were burning on your skin now.

Anger, chagrin and despair rioted in your veins like a hurricane.

So untamed, you didn’t even notice the man at the helm observing your actions through curious eyes.

“To hell-“ you shouted, kicking your right foot so that your shoe flew overboard in a wide arc “with you, father“ the other shoe followed suit.

“And Somerset“ you tossed one earring into the black sea, holding the other one while you unhooked the expensive necklace.

You didn’t hesitate a second to proceed with this macabre yet somehow weirdly freeing act of rebellion.

With your right arm outstretched, jewelry in your hands, you stood at the ship’s railing, wind in your face.

“And to the depths with this society of hypocrites and it's stupid rules“ your now hoarse voice exclaimed bitterly before your tossing arm got stopped mid way.

What?

Twisting on your stocking feet, you ended up only inches away from Jack Sparrow’s face who was grinning at you with a pleased sparkle in his dark eyes.

You didn't dare to breathe, mouth agape.

He was still holding onto your arm even though you had lowered it in a mixture of shock and awe.

“Not good. Ye wouldn't wanna be doin' that, lassie“ the pirate purred, gold teeth adding to the captivating shine of his eyes.

Since the Navy took him prisoner, you had never spoken to him. Only eves-dropped when he had persuaded Norrington as if it was easy.

And now you could feel his breath fan across your face, the scent of the sea and rum intoxicating your brain.

Slowly, he unwrapped and lifted his fingers off your arm. One by one like a fan.

“Why not? You cannot stop me“ you eventually found your courage again and yanked your arm away.

The man scrunched his brows, lips closing. The many trinkets in his dreadlocks clinked as Sparrow cocked his head.

Your eyes were slaves to his eccentric mimic for a little while before you finally got to step back.

His presence somehow calmed you down, brought your nerves to a halt. All the way to the point where you remembered your manners.

“My apologies, Mister Sparrow. I didn’t mean to-“ you began to apologize for the snappy behavior but he interjected with a finger pointing at you.

“Never be sorry for disobeying rules that aren't worth following, luv“.

Irritated by the unexpectedly wise words, you found yourself at a loss for an answer.

This man was a real pirate after all. The closest thing to an anarchical life there was.

Your heart pumped awe through your veins that began to pacify the storm within.

Features dropping from trained, polite distance to honest distress, your gaze darted down to the jewelry in your hand. It was worth at least as much as your entire collection of summer gowns.

The blue stones seemed somewhat black tonight.

As grim as your future. With Somerset. Or any other noble, dim-witted aristocrat.

The pirate just stood and watched the tragic poem being written all over your beautiful face. His silence allowed the gears in your mind to shift.

Then, you seemed put.

“What even are you doing at the helm, Sparrow?“ You asked to avoid any potential questions when you mindlessly chucked the bundle of jewelry to him.

He grinned again as an audible clink and clatter signaled you that he had caught it.

You were sure that Sparrow had a better use for it than you did. Whatever it may be.

Admittedly, you would have just thrown it overboard or locked it away in a random jewel casket for eternity.

A husky gravel met your ears when he cleared his throat after sinking the necklace deep into the inside pocket of his brown jacket.

It was as if he knew you didn't have any expectation of thanks or desire for inquiring about your deed.

“Isla de la Muerta can only be found by those who already know where it is-“.

Slow steps of heavy boots on wooden tiles neared you from your left.

“And rumors have it me, meself and I have a heading Norrington doesn’t, savvy?“ Sparrow slurred, snapping open a compass as he leaned his back against the railing next to you.

With your eyes raking over the dusk ocean, you couldn’t help but risk a peak over to his hands.

You grimaced. The compass obviously didn’t point north.

Was he tricking the Commodore?

Suddenly, Jack chuckled, clearly having seen your expression.

“Nah... tale for another night“ he simply stated closing the small, brown box again.

His intense gaze crawled all over your side profile and pinned updo. “Tell me somethin’ about ye, Missy. Plagued by those wig-suckers, eh?“

You gave a snort of laughter, enjoying his unfiltered way of addressing the men you were used to calling 'Lord', 'Governor' or 'Commodore'.

“You know exactly who I am. Do not call me Missy“ you snapped, biting down a playful smile no one had ever elicited as easily as the foreign pirate did.

Perhaps it should worry you but it didn’t in the slightest.

Jack arched his figure to lean back more and study your edged expression from the front. You tried to shoot him an unfazed look but the pirate saw right through it and smiled widely.

How he could read you so emphatically was far beyond what you were used to from men. It confused you.

Just as it puzzled Jack that your behaviour was so devoid of any of the hospitality and judgement he had come to expect from your class.

It only drew the both of you deeper into whatever this conversation would become.

“Apologies, me bad. Miss Sheffield“ his deep voice cooed, finally cracking your surface and putting a soft blush on your cheeks.

“It never occurred to me that Pirates can be this charming“ you snickered with a hint of irony, eyes resting on Sparrow’s unique features for a moment.

His tanned skin was reflecting the flickering light of oil lamps. Sparrow was a handsome man, you realized.

Effortlessly and in tune with the ship's rocking, the man pushed off the railing to trail behind you.

“I always expected Pirates to be more- rogue, I suppose“ you mused, more to yourself.

Sparrow tsk'ed but he didn't seem hurt.

Your head cocked when you felt his hot breath close to the nape of your neck.

“A Shilling that I can alter your outlook on Pirates all by me onesies, eh?“ His comment was nonchalant and smug but in a swinging way.

This man had nerves.

“Didn't I just give you a collier worth far more than one Shilling?“ you asked rhetorically, amplifying the perky tone.

The pirate hummed, as if contemplating. “Alright, then. Consider your debt paid“.

It was utterly refreshing to converse so freely without any rules or boundaries. You grew fond of it with every passing second.

When Sparrow didn’t re-appear on your other side, you turned around to spot him chugging down the wine you had abandoned in your rage.

“Sorry, it’s no rum but-“

“-good. That’s good“ he complimented the red liquid, analyzing the ornate chalice through narrowed eyes before he sat it back down.

Carefully, with his pinky stretched out with decorum.

You caught yourself giggling but promptly covered your mouth with a palm. Habits.

“So, Miss Sheffield...“ the pirate urged you, swaggering closer until he stood by your side again. His elbows were quickly propped on the reddish railing.

“Pray tell“.

You sighed. However, the will to empty your heart was unbreakable.

It was easier when your gaze found shelter in the darkness of the Caribbean night but Sparrow’s stare lingered on you nonetheless.

“I- I feel like- No, I am trapped. Trapped in a golden cage with only dull bumbles who want to possess women of standing as if they were accessories for their prevalence-striven plans“ you began to complain, your words gaining speed and intensity throughout the sentence.

Honest pity flashed behind the pirate's charcoal outlined eyes.

The man had never thought he was capable of pitying those who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths.

And still, there he stood, stricken by the pain in your melodic voice.

You gasped for air, your mind wanting to go on but your throat began to burn on the verge of crying.

“I must behave according to the rules of society, no matter what it is I truly desire. All the poisoned praise goes to my brother while I am only of importance when the subject of my marriage is discussed“.

“Ye brother be the new Governor of Nassau?“ Sparrow eventually asked, his gaze sliding down to where your nails were nervously scratching lines into the wooden railing.

You couldn’t help but scoff in annoyance of his title. “Yes, that be him“.

The man next to you shrugged his shoulders, the trinkets and charms once again clinking. You would love to find out where he got each of them from.

“I could, in fact, sack Nassau port for ye as soon as I rip me Pearl from Barbossa’s slimy, old hands“ a tad of disgust infused his bold words at the foreign name.

“Jus' a humble offer. What ye say, lassie?“.

Sparrow was trying to cheer you up.

A small smile began to reign over your lips again, toes curling. “That would only get you killed, fierce pirate“ you noted, trying to sound as judicious and rational as possible.

Instead, he grinned even broader and spread his arms in an eccentric, self-presenting pose. “I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, luv“ he declared as if it was self-explanatory.

For the first time in a while the sea breeze caught and carried your sincere laughter.

Sparrow’s braided goatee twitched as he found himself biting his lip at the pretty sound and look.

You were a stunning woman in noble clothes with noble blood in your veins but with a spirit as wild and ravenous as his own.

You enthralled him.

“Bring this to my daughter. She shall eat, at least. The Commodore risks too much by rescuing young Turner, he cannot afford to see his fiancé unwell“ Governor Swann’s order suddenly boomed across the main deck, followed by hasty steps of a maid.

Instinctively, Sparrow snaked his hand around your shoulder, across your chest and pulled you back with him.

Out of sight.

His rough hand on your mouth muffled a shrill cry just enough.

“They thinkin’ yer asleep, eh, Miss Sheffield?“ His voice was lowered, almost just a husk and yet it was filled with this mischievous, flirtatious tone.

God, this man sent shivers down your spine like no other.

But he was still a lawless pirate.

A prisoner, even.

Suddenly, whyever, the gravity of your situation and the futility of tonight's zeal made you feel how cold and wet the floor was without shoes.

Brown dreadlocks pressed against the back of your head irrevocably disheveled your updo.

“Asleep, as I should be...“ you muttered, infused with a hint of re-surfacing anger and despair.

You wriggled yourself out of his protective grasp. The pirate's brow was raised, eyes narrowed on your face.

There was a haze of danger and waywardness about Jack Sparrow that made you question your own courage and spirit.

“Why did I even tell you all that in the first place?“ you exclaimed, hands thrown up. Slowly stepping away from him, you felt all the emotions crushing your mind.

“You most likely do not care, neither do I profit by wailing. It doesn’t bear contemplating...“.

Sparrow wrapped his right hand back around the handle of the helm, looking rather unfazed by the confusion that was spreading in your system like the Portuguese wine in his own.

Heavy silence and the occasional laughter from the men in the Captain’s cabin mingled with the soft splash of sea water.

Your feelings were now as erratic as the rhythm of the crashing waves.

“Look 'ere, luv“.

Your gaze was just about to turn from pleading to the usual bored emptiness as you saw his free hand wander down to his leather belt.

A smirk adorned his bearded face when skilled fingers rapidly detached the compass and threw it over to you.

Stumbling slightly as the ship rocked, you caught the brown box before it could hit the ground.

You heard Sparrow mutter a muted “Thank god“ that made you want to snap at him but the gesture was too interesting not to query.

Why would he think you needed a compass?

Fluster painted your features when you met his weirdly satisfied expression.

“Aren’t you Captain Jack Sparrow? Don’t you need a compass for... that?“ You asked with less challenge in your tone than initially planned.

He chuckled beautifully, shaking his head with eyes closed.

“What?“ You probed when his dark gaze began to rise up from the floor, along your figure.

“I may be without me compass but not without heading and a plan“ the pirate finally explained, taking another step closer to the helm “You, contrastingly and tragically, lack both“.

Your arms came up and crossed defensively in front of your chest.

But his words and the tight corset made you drop them again rather quickly.

He was right. You had been lamenting about your situation barely three minutes ago.

“So? What exactly is your compass going to change about that, Sparrow?“.

You peered down at the inconspicuous looking box.

“Everythin'.“ Sparrow stated with a touch of mystery. “Listen what ye heart wants and the compass is gonna give ye a heading, savvy?“.

A big part of you wanted to believe what this infuriatingly interesting man promised while another voice was whispering to you how it was literal magic he was implying.

Magic.

With a hesitant gesture of offering it back to him, you hoped to find out which voice to listen to.

“But you would want it back, right? It is yours after all“ you commented your action with genuine concern and a small smile.

Plus, the fear that Norrington would kill Jack if he couldn’t find the Isla without his compass.

Captured by the pirate for one last time, you watched his gold teeth flash in a wide grin, his tattooed hand spreading on his chest as a sign of integrity.

He was being honest, you felt it.

“I will be gettin’ it back, luv. Don't ye worry“.

Before you creeped down the stairs and eventually headed for your cabin to ponder on your heart's desires, the last you saw of Captain Jack Sparrow was a charming wink.

The last for now, at least.

♡ thank you so much for reading my very first POTC fic ever ♡

𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐲𝐨 𝐡𝐨

@mochie85 @holdmytesseract @socksracoon10 @goldencherriess @chronicallybubbly @kcd15 @always-on-hiatus

#jack sparrow x reader #captain jack sparrow #potc x reader #potc #jack sparrow fic #fanfiction #jack sparrow x y/n #pirates of the caribbean #jack sparrow #Pirates of the Caribbean fanfic #captain jack sparrow x yn #jack sparrow x f!reader #language

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bitchlessdino · 3 months

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Would you like a receipt? Pt. 1

In Valentines collaboration with @svthub hosted by my wifey @wongyuseokie, pt 2 out now! Pairing: Childhood bf!junhui x working class gn!reader Genre: fluff, slight angst, slice of life Word count: 2.9k tags: second chances, exes to ???, childhood friend/boyfriend!junhui, spontaneous dates, misunderstandings, smut in part 2!!! Summary: Coming across a grade school ex-boyfriend while you worked a shitty seasonal job around Valentines was not in your 2024 bingo card. author note: to sweet mio at @skyechild i apologize in advance for making you wait for the second half. I promise it'll be worth the wait. but yes! i am your one and only cupid. I hope you enjoy what i have so far. And to answer your ask, idk if i have a favorite thing about myself? Maybe it's the constant desire to look for new things to improve on or my attitude in trying new things? What i look for other people is pretty simple tho. That would be ease. I'd like if someone felt comfortable with me and vice versa. if i can make someone's day by making them laugh or just existing then that would be great. happy valentines day mio! From yours Truly, Cupid💘

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic

Valentine's Day has always been a bit of a hit or miss for you. The last time you remember eagerly anticipating the holiday was back in high school. Since then, the allure of celebrating love and romance seemed to fade away, as you realized that not everything in the world is adorned in shades of pink and red. Valentine's Day became a luxury, a whimsical indulgence that felt distant and impractical for someone navigating a world that often left little room for such extravagances. Life, for you, was a series of tasks, responsibilities, and the constant juggling act of making ends meet.

From the time you were in high school, you entered the realm of adulthood, where dreams sometimes took a backseat to the more immediate needs of providing for your family. The dreams you put on hold lingered in the recesses of your mind, awaiting their turn to be fulfilled. Working tirelessly, you made sacrifices, dedicating yourself to a job that demanded your energy and time. Despite the challenges, you pressed on, ensuring the well-being of your family, who toiled alongside you, if not even harder.

Now, as an adult working a part-time job that offers a slightly better paycheck than your previous one, you’ve grown used to the matter. While the financial gains may not be monumental, every improvement counts, especially when compared to the downfalls of your previous workplace.

Amidst the whirlwind of your daily hustle, Valentine's Day transforms into a distant echo of the past–a time when celebrations were carefree and seemingly attainable. However, for you, navigating the world feels akin to maneuvering on an almost empty tank. In this moment, mere existence becomes a means to sustain yourself.

“Is this a gift? If so, would you like it to be gift-wrapped for you?”

The middle-aged man raises an eyebrow, smacking that mint gum that doesn’t seem to mask his nicotine-coated breath. “Is it extra?”

“It’s two dollars extra.”

Usually, you’d really sell the idea that the highest premium quality wrapping paper would be used to then be topped off with a satin ribbon that truly pulls it all together, but for such a customer, you know you’d be wasting your breath.

He scoffs, snatching the bag off the counter. “Are you trying to scam me? Fuck that shit.”

You let a sigh of relief slip past your lips the moment he made his way out the sliding door, muttering to yourself about the smell. You reach down for your Powerade hidden on a bottom shelf of the counter you stand behind, hoping this supposed ‘power’ would relinquish itself to you for another long shift.

It’s the day before Valentine's Day, which means the rush has become a regular occurrence since about a week ago. The store is bursting with vibrant displays of flowers, stuffed animals clutching oversized lollipops, and decadent heart-shaped boxes of chocolates. Not such a bad gig if you look at it.

However, the true predicament lies in the presence of aggressive customers, drawn to discounts like magnets. They're all about grabbing anything and everything that's on sale, making things more complicated than they need to be. It's like they're trying to see how far they can push things and make your day even crazier. Dealing with them adds an extra layer of chaos to the already busy scene as if you haven’t lost faith in humanity enough.

“I bought this yesterday and it’s DIGUSTING! I want a full refund and extra compensation for my time and taste buds being wasted on this disgusting excuse of a candy.”

Popping open the box revealed a sorry sight–almost half the candies were missing as if they'd gone on a little taste adventure without an invite. The poor box looked like it had been through a candy apocalypse, so messed up that I couldn't even be sure if it originally belonged to our store.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry you're dissatisfied with our products. However, because the box is so damaged and half of the contents have been consumed we cannot accept this return,” you respond in your most polite service voice.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Where the hell is your manager? The customer is always right!”

At last, a wave of relief crashes over you like a superhero arriving just in the nick of time during closing hours. The once bustling crowd has dwindled, allowing you to begin the task of rearranging items and securing the cash register, signaling the imminent conclusion of yet another busy day.

Just when you're on the verge of clocking out and calling it a day, a sudden interruption unfolds at the entrance. A lone figure materializes outside, softly tapping on the glass as if pleading to be granted entry.

"Please," his voice is all muffled through the glass, "I know you're about to close, but pretty please! I just need to grab something real quick. I already know exactly what I need!"

It’s not every day you see a man of his looks and caliber beg to be given access to a candy store as if he were a determined child. There's this undeniable air of urgency about him–as if he’d die if we didn’t get what he needed–but it doesn't overshadow his perfectly proportioned features that illuminate under the evening street lights. Ultimately, you decide to approach the door, swiftly undoing the top lock of the door and allowing him inside.

He expresses his gratitude with a grateful clasp of his hands, swiftly navigating through the inventory to grab what he urgently needs. Returning to the counter, you initiate the process of unraveling the closing procedures, all the while fervently hoping that no one else decides to join the stranger in last minute browsing.

"Sorry," he apologizes as he drops his items on the counter: several heart-shaped boxes and a bear clutching a mini Mylar balloon that shouts 'I love you,' with a small box of chocolates in its other paw. A classic and popular choice.

“That’s a lot of chocolate. Big family?”

He shakes his head, "Nah, these are for a company thing. I've been busting my butt for weeks, and the one simple task I get, I can't even manage it until the last minute."

"Got it. And the bear? Picking up a last-minute surprise for your girlfriend too?"

A slightly offended look crosses his face. "Oh, if I had a girlfriend, I’d do way more than make up my tardiness with a teddy bear.” He holds the fluffy creature in his hand, “This is just for my mom. So, if you ever spot a lady with my face and long hair, please, keep it on the down-low."

You chuckle softly, bagging up his purchases. "I'll remember that. Cash or credit?"

He extends his hand, revealing his credit card with his full name on display. As you sound out the name in your head, it strikes you as unique yet oddly familiar. You run the card through the machine, unaware that the customer is squinting at you, also trying to place where he might know you from.

"Hey, have we met before? You seem really familiar," he questions.

"Uh, not sure, but your name does ring a bell," you reply as you hand the card back. "Haven't come across too many Wen Junhuis."

"Wait, how do you know my name?" he questions.

"Well, it's on your credit card, sir," You respond with straightforward precision.

"True, but no one has picked it up as quickly and accurately as you did. Maybe we do know each other."

You shrug. "Maybe so. I think the last time I heard a name like that was back in elementary school. A classmate maybe."

"Hold on, you couldn't be Y/n, right?" he questions, his eyes widening with realization.

You take a brief pause to grasp the implication, acknowledging it with a nod. "Been a long time coming, hasn't it?"

His smile widened across his cheeks, evoking memories of a similar grin on a boy more than half his age. "Yeah. Well, I be damned. I'm surprised you remember my name."

"It's pretty distinctive; I'm surprised you remember mine."

He scoffs. "You are a core memory, thank you very much. One of the nicest and coolest people in our grade. God, remember our first Valentines?"

"Yes," you softly chuckle, the memories of childhood innocence flooding back. "I begged my mom to get these really nice scented Valentine cards to give to the class."

"And you gave me the lemon one because I love lemons, and I gave you one of the hologram cards of a cat that smiles when you flip it on its side."

"I was so excited to show my sister, and I just know she was so jealous."

"Yeah, where did the time go?" he sighs, his smile turning wistful on his lips.

You shake your head, still smiling from the unexpected trip down memory lane, and finally, hand off his gifts back to him. "Would you like a receipt?"

"No, I'm good. So,” He leans over the counter curiously, “What are you doing this Valentine's?"

"Working the day. I'll probably just grab takeout for dinner and head home. You?"

"It's a workday,” he says proceeding to grab his things. “So most of the day is spent in the office. But, I'm free the rest of the evening…would it be weird if I asked you out for Valentine's Day?" he nervously proposes.

You raise an eyebrow, slightly taken aback but intrigued. "You want me to be your Valentine?"

"Couldn't hurt," he nonchalantly shrugged, a wry grin playing on his lips. Then, as if a light bulb flickered to life above his head, an idea dawned on him, sparking mischief in his eyes.

"Unless you've got a 200-pound, all-muscle boyfriend ready to beat my ass," he quips, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. The words linger in the air, forming a playful challenge and a subtle admission that, just maybe, he wasn't entirely impervious to consequences.

It harks back to a past altercation, one of those rare 'couple quarrels' you had. The promise was made in jest—that you'd leave him if he ever pulled on your hair again, and he'd have to face a burly 200-pound muscle man. Though uttered in humor with no evidence of said muscle man, it struck a chord of genuine concern in his little boy heart, and he kept that promise until the end of your relationship. The memory lingered, manifesting now in an unmistakable charm, a blend of audacity, bravado, and humor that fills the air with laughter and unadulterated ease.

You chuckle. “Lucikly, I don’t, but I don’t know you. Who knows what kind of person you, or I, have become in the last fifteen or so years? Maybe I'm a bitch.”

"Well, as long as there’s no one else in the picture, I see no problem. Bitch all you want to me." he grins.

Your expression shifts into a playful contemplation, "Why me? I'm pretty sure there are plenty of people out there dying for a dinner date with you. I mean, the last thing we shared was a juice box."

"Maybe I'm hoping to reignite an old spark. If I recall our MASH game correctly, we were supposed to be living in a shack with 20 kids, a dog, and daily commutes on a scooter," Junhui retorts.

"Thank goodness that scenario never played out, but, um, I'm not sure dinner is a good idea."

As the banter unfolds, you realize it's been an eternity since you've experienced the thrill of a proper date. The mere thought of dressing up, the nervous excitement before meeting someone, and the shared laughter over a romantic meal become fragments of a distant past, like pages in a cherished novel stored away on a forgotten shelf.

“We never know unless we try, right?” He says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“You always hit on exes that you stumble upon on a random Tuesday?”

“Only the pretty ones.” Junhui grins, swiftly extracting a candy box from the bag. With a quick scribble on the side, he hands it to you. “If you change your mind. Happy Valentine's Day.”

You roll your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you accept the candy. “Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Jun.”

You depart with a box of candy in hand when your shift ends, Junhui's number hastily scribbled on the top, the ink still fresh as that abrupt encounter. As you make your way home, the city lights shimmering in the distance, you find your thoughts circling back to his audacious proposition.

The weight of the candy box seems to mirror the gravity of the decision before you. The city streets, now quieter in the late evening, echo with dilemma of pursuing his offer. You can't deny the charm that lingers in the air—a mix of confusion, nostalgia, and an unexpected connection. The mere act of considering his offer adds a layer of excitement to the night, anticipation for plans that have been yet set in motion.

As you unlock the door to your apartment, the scent of familiarity welcomes you warmly for once, likely due to the refreshing end of your night. You set the candy aside–already having memorized Junhui's number–and with a decisive tap, you enter his number into your phone. The screen lights up with his name, a digital beacon inviting you to venture into uncharted territory. As you send a quick message, the city outside continues its gentle hum, and you can't help but feel giddy. You’re eleven all over again.

The memory of Junhui's charismatic grin lingers in your mind, a subtle tug at the edges of your thoughts the moment you hit send, and you throw the phone aside, letting yourself get rid of the electrifying nerves running through your body. When you hear the notification going off–Junhui’s name on display–you realize there’s no going back.

The following day, you’re excited about living for once. Delighted to have something to look forward to after work, you board today's bus with a genuine smile on your face, a subtle change that doesn't escape the notice of the bus drivers, who have grown accustomed to your early presence by now.

As the bus carries you through the familiar townscape, you can't help but revel in the subtle shift in the air. The usual humdrum of daily life seems to have given way to a vibrant undercurrent of anticipation for the holiday. The ordinary scenes outside the window take on a slightly pink hue, and you find yourself savoring the details that often go unnoticed illuminated with festive decor.

Work hours also pass with a newfound energy, and the anticipation for the evening grows with each passing minute, even with the rambunctious customers buying more gifts just in the nick of time. The mundane tasks of the day become a mere backdrop to the vibrant scene that awaits you once the clock strikes the end of the workday.

Today, the world outside the candy store seems to radiate brighter than any other day has. The street lights gradually flickering on, usually just a backdrop to your daily grind, now beckon with a promise of surprises. As the day unfolds, you find yourself counting down the hours until your appointment time arrives and you quickly change into your Valentine's date attire, anticipating Junhui's reappearance.

Time moves forward—one hour, two hours, three hours. Doubts begin to creep in. Were you merely indulging in wishful thinking at this point?

The rose-tinted glasses, which once painted the day with a hopeful hue, must have started to expire. Now, a subtle gray takes over, bringing you back to the stark reality of the passing moments. The initial excitement begins to wane, replaced by a tinge of disappointment and a hint of uncertainty.

As the clock ticks away, doubts and questions swirl in your mind like a gathering storm. The vibrant anticipation that once filled the air begins to dissipate, leaving behind a quiet unease.

You glance at your reflection in the mirror, the Valentine's date attire now carrying a touch of wistfulness. The city outside, once alive with the promise of a special evening, now takes on a different tone. The street lights, initially beacons of excitement, cast shadows that dance with anxiety and unease. The imminent arrival of buses amplifies a fleeting thought–maybe, just maybe, you can still catch it if you run.

Taking a leap of faith, you hastily gather your belongings and make your way to the bus station, adhering to your initial plan—opting for takeout in the solitude of home, if restaurants are still an option at this hour. Amidst the uncertainty, your phone succumbs to the lack of power, its screen plunged into darkness, mirroring the tone of your night.

The familiarity of home brings no comfort, only disheartenment. You set aside the dinner you had envisioned for tonight, plugging in your phone to replenish its drained battery, intentionally avoiding any further interaction with the outside world for the remainder of the night.

When your phone finally regains its power, messages burst to life in an instant, one particular message standing out, beckoning attention. That is, of course, if you were still around to witness it.

Junhui: I’m so sorry! You will not believe the day I had. My office was bombarding me all day with extra work and i only left now. Please tell me its not too late.

P.S. and here's that valentine i wanted to give to you <3 i hope you like it as much as this fic so far

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kennahjune · 7 months

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Another fic about Eddie’s not-so-hidden strength;

It was six in the morning on a Tuesday and Steve really needed to pee.

But he couldn’t.

Why?

Because his boyfriend had a death grip on his waist and wouldn’t wake up for shit.

This was a problem not only for Steve’s poor bladder, but also because he was meant to pick up Dustin, Will and Max for school. So he had to ready to go in the next half hour or they’d be late.

And the fact that he /really/ needed to piss.

“Eddie.” He tried tapping his boyfriends arm for the millionth time. “Eds.” He raised his voice a little louder.

Steve tried not to wake Eddie up in the morning unless needed; he was always taking on the late-shifts at the garage. But right now Steve really needed to get up.

“Eddie!” He raised his voice one final time, not really a yell but enough to get a groan out of his boyfriend.

“Ugh—“ he heard from Eddie. However this did not have the desired effect of getting him to let go. Instead Steve found Eddie tightening his arms.

“Oh God— Eddie!”

Eddie dug his head into Steve’s shoulder from behind. Steve took a moment to try and pry Eddie’s arms apart on his abdomen but faced no luck.

Finally, he gave in.

“Eddie, baby—“ he shoved at his shoulder blindly “— I need to get up.”

Eddie moaned into his shoulder sleepily, coming out as more of a whine. “Eddieeee please!”

Now he himself was whining.

Eddie, finally, let up his grip on Steve waist, loosening until Steve could comfortably slip out and straight to the bathroom.

When he returned, Eddie was sat up on the bed, blankets still tangled around his legs as he tried to work the hair tie out of his hair from when he fell asleep with it up.

Eddie immediately wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling Steve into his side and kissing his neck.

“Mornin’ baby.”

Steve chose to ignore Eddie’s morning voice for the sake of getting out the house on time.

“Hey jackass.”

Eddie giggled, the fucker.

“Sorry not sorry sweetheart.”

Steve tried to resist the smile but ultimately gave in and kissed Eddie soundly on the lips.

For a moment, neither moved away, both enjoying the kiss. But when they did move away Eddie smirked.

“Oh God, Eddie—“

Steve was immediately swooped up off the bed by Eddie a moment later.

“JESUS EDDIE!!”

Eddie cackled where he stood on the hardwood floor with Steve in his arms in a bridal carry. Steve placed his hands on Eddie’s cheeks, leaning down and pressing their foreheads together.

“Your hairs a mess,” he said through giggles and chuckles.

“Then fix it for me.”

Steve did so, through awkward maneuvers and stolen kisses.

When he got the hair tie out he pulled it onto his wrist and tried to get down.

Key word; tried.

Eddie refused to let go.

So if Steve was 5-10 minutes to picking up the kids then…

Well that’s his business.

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #eddie munson #will byers #max mayfield #steddie #steddie hcs #steddie fics #steve x eddie #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #homosexual boys doing homosexual things

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little-emerald-snake · 30 days

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Getting Caught pt 4 Finale - Ominis Gaunt X F!MC

🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI

I can’t believe you heathens have gobbles this little series up so frantically and kept enjoying every part I put out. I’m so grateful everyone likes it. That being said consider this a finale piece. I have so many branching ideas that I want to work on and therefore I feel I’ve written a good end for this little series. I hope you enjoy and thanks for hanging on for this little journey.

Warnings: a little fluff, losing virginity, awkward first time, mentions of blood, unprotected p-in-v, use of the word cervix (some of yall CANT get with that word so I added it here 😅)

1.4k words

Ominis paced the Undercroft. His head had been an absolute mess since their last meeting. All his life he’d never wanted to have sex with anyone, the fear of producing an heir or subjecting a woman to his family being far too much for his sanity.

But now all he could think about was what she felt like inside, how badly he wanted to take her sweet, soft innocence and make her cry out in pleasure while wrapped around him. How badly he wanted to hold her in his arms and drown in her incredible scent.

He’d thought about sex but never this much in his entire life. His thoughts as he laid in bed awake trying to sleep was what her possible reaction would be, would she also want it? What would become of them if they went farther, could he protect her from his family if they decided to court?

His head lifted when he heard the whirring clocks, he straightened, clasping his hands behind his back and listening to each echoing boot step as she came closer. “Ominis. I got your owl…”

He held out his hand, causing her to stop. “C-can I say what I have to say?” After a beat of silence and a small yes he continued. “I-I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you. Maybe it’s because we’ve suddenly become rather intimate…but…I find myself feeling a strong desire for you. One that can’t be quenched while alone in my bed at night.”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the harsh hammering of his heart. “I…want to ask if you’d be open to courtship. I know my family is less than desirable to be associated with but I could keep it secret from them. We could just tell our close and trusted friends…or if you’re not okay with that maybe…it stays strictly physical and secret.”

He wished now more than ever to have sight, to see her face…her silence made his stomach tighten into harsh uncomfortable knots. But when she finally spoke he couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief. “Ominis…I…you want to become physical?”

His cheeks reddened, a stutter marring his speech. “W-well I…y-yes I suppose. I-I-I mean I’d love to court you first but I…can’t stop thinking of whatever we've been doing together. I-I want more, however you’ll give it to me.��

She stepped closer to him, with each step his heart crashed against his ribcage, threatened to burst from his chest. To his surprise the pounding of his heart was the furthest thing from his mind as her hand caressed his cheek and soft lips met his.

He stayed absolutely still till she pressed deeper into the kiss, then his hands were in her hair, pulling her close as their kiss deepened. It’s a slow and sensual kiss, no urgency behind it, just raw emotions.

When the kiss broke they were both red cheeked and breathless. He was still holding her close, afraid that if he let her go she may dissolve into thin air.

She caressed his cheek again and he could hear her smile. “Ominis…I’d love to be yours. W-we can figure out how to manage your family as we go but I want this, us.”

Ominis swept her up into his arms and she giggled happily. He kissed her again, still holding her in his arms, maneuvering them deeper into the Undercroft. He sank to his knees and laid her on the pile of blankets, breaking the kiss. “D-do you want to go further?”

A small yes had him diving forward, lips crashing against hers. This kiss was a hungry, burning, all consuming wildfire that had her clawing at his chest, pulling him down against her.

He hovered above her, one hand awkwardly coming up to paw at the front of her shirt. A wave of heat pooled in his groin, sparking to life the need he harbored for her. She hummed softly which he took as a good sign, groping a bit harder and seeking her nipple through the fabric.

She breathlessly took his hand, helping him slide it up under her shirt and their kiss was broken as he moaned just from the feeling of her chemise. He was rock hard against her thigh, grinding himself greedily against her.

He pinched her nipple a bit harder than intended, causing her to yelp. He looked up sheepishly, apologizing before abandoning her breast and sliding his hand down to her skirt, hiking it up around her waist.

He groaned as his fingers met her wet center, dipping in to collect her wetness before rolling over her clit. She sagged against the blankets, moaning needily as he picked up speed.

Her back arched and Ominis pushed himself up as best as he could, still rubbing her as he attempted to free his aching erection one handed. He paused to rub a flattened palm over himself, desperate to soothe the urgency.

Once he’d accomplished freeing himself he was pushing against her, awkwardly leaning over her while trying to line himself up between her legs.

She tensed and he stopped, going back to rolling her sensitive bud under the pads of his fingers. “No rush darling, it’s okay. Sorry for my eagerness.”

She clutched his shirt, lifting her hips to chase the feeling he was giving her. She was gasping and moaning, writhing beneath him and if he didn’t know better he’d think she was about to cum.

His suspicion was confirmed when he nudged against her entrance again and she wriggled her hips against him, he could feel her spasming even just pressed against her entrance. His eager fingers sped up on her clit as a sob caught in her throat.

He pushed past the thin barrier of her virginity, turning her blissful sounds into a sharp cry. His attention was divided between the blissful heat he was slowly shoving into and petting her hair gently while cooing encouragements. “S-such a good girl. Gods, you feel so tight.”

She whimpered, pulling him closer which was his only sign to keep pushing into her almost too tight heat. His control waned when he lifted his hand to feel her face and caught a wet tear sliding over her cheek.

He tried to pull out and she shook her head, tugging at his shirt. “D-don’t stop. M’fine…please.”

He didn’t stop, instead focusing on rubbing her sensitive nub while lurching his hips forward inside of her. His thrusts were jerky and untimed but he still felt her clench around him and heard her whimper in pleasure.

A sick satisfaction and sense of pride took over him when he smelled the tang of blood and felt the slickness of it coating him. He shoved all the way inside, feeling her clenched tightly while he pulled out and shoved back in.

A choked moan escaped her throat and she clung tighter to him. They rocked together, finding a rhythm where he pulled out and pushed back in. He was much longer than she’d imagined so he bottomed out every time, causing a gasp when his tip kissed her cervix.

His elbows were planted on either side of her head as he rut into her, hips moving faster and more fervently. He grunted and groaned till finally he stilled and spilled inside of her, filling her up.

Her cheeks were red as she laid beneath him, embarrassed and shy after feeling him absolutely unload inside of her. He panted, adjusting so he could hold her face. “M’fuck I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Don’t worry, won’t stop till you’re done too.”

She couldn’t believe he was still hard, his hand moved down to rub her clit again and his thrusts resumed, gentle and calculated. It wasn’t long before her moans and arching back indicated she was close. He felt her body language and soon she was clutching onto him, whimpering and begging. “G-gonna…m’gonna cum! Ominis!”

She did, clenching around him, she exploded in blissful orgasmic pleasure. He grit his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm as she whimpered and pleaded through her orgasm as it tore through her.

He held her, staying buried inside of her as he soothed her and caressed her. Petting her hair and praising her. “You’re so incredible. This is perfect. Gods I can’t believe your mine. All mine.”

She blushed, relaxing in his touch as he held her, basking in his warmth and soothing touch, taking in the fact that this all started with her catching him in the act down in this exact spot.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt smut #little emerald snake

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atinycafe · 10 months

Text

warning: nsfw under the cut, fingering, slight choking, pet names (little slut, pretty girl, babe, baby), brat & dom hybrid!wooyo, 1.7k wrds

"don't stare at me like that"

"like what?" your fox hybrid responds with a sly grin while you gently massage shampoo into his hair, your fingers deftly maneuvering through his dark locks.

"you know what i'm talking about" you remark with a pointed look, shifting your hands to the area around his fox ears, delicately massaging the black fur with the soap that carries a hint of cocoa butter fragrance.

you're perched on a little stool, rocking a pair of baby yellow panties and a matching camisole, slightly damp from hybrid!wooyoung's antics in the water. it's the midst of june, and the relentless heat had transformed both of you into perspiring wrecks. despite wooyoung's ability to shower independently, he consistently pleaded for a bath, cunningly aware that his cries for assistance about not reaching his back would invariably prompt your kind aid. he had discovered the undeniable truth that once you began helping him, you would steadfastly carry on until the task was completed.

you had hastily gathered your hair into a disheveled bun, yearning to prevent it from clinging to the nape of your neck, yet a sense of regret lingers within you. regret, because that impromptu decision leaves you defenceless against the intensity of wooyoung's unwavering gaze. it's as if he can see right through you, piercing your very soul. you can't look away, especially when he gets horny like that. subtle signs emerge, his ears twitching in sync with each movement you make, as if anticipating a forthcoming spectacle, his tail fluffing up in response to the growing tension. normally, you would witness this captivating display, but his tail is concealed beneath the water's surface. however, it's the transformation in his eyes that truly captivates you. his pupils dilates, swallowing the colored hues that once adorned his irises, while his eyelids gradually descend, granting his gaze a mesmerizing allure.

a mischievous smirk adorns his face, growing wider as he beholds your irritated countenance. with a swift motion, he withdraws his wet arms from the water's embrace and reaches out to encircle your waist, swiftly drawing you into the capacious bathtub. your startled voice erupts into a scream, caught off guard by the suddenness of his actions. instinctively, you cling to his form, seeking solace in the unexpected plunge. as the initial shock subsides, your head snaps back up, a glare etching itself upon your features, only to be met with a feigned inoffensiveness emanating from his gaze. a mixture of disbelief and frustration bubbles within you, prompting a muttered "what the fuck" as the sensation of damp clothing clinging to your skin adds to the discomfort.

"no i don't know what you're talking about," he retorts to your previous statement, his head tilting innocently to the side. just as you're about to rebuke him, a jolt of surprise courses through you as you feel his hands firmly grasp your ass, drawing you closer to him. his fingers trace the contours of your undergarments, delicately pressing against the supple flesh beneath. in that moment, the innocent expression on his face morphs into a self-satisfied grin, as he revels in the subtle blush that tinges your cheekbones.

"w-woo, not now, you have soap in your hair, it's gonna fall in your eyes" you speak, trying to maintain a firm tone, yet the desire that unfurls within you cannot be denied. your thighs instinctively find their place between his, pressing together intimately, seeking respite from the blossoming sensation of pleasure that courses through your body.

"but i want you," he pouts, playfully nudging your face with his nose, displaying his half-feline nature, "let's play a game," he suggests, his voice laced with mischief.

you raise your gaze to meet his, a whirlwind of confusion swirling in your eyes. a soft gasp escapes your lips, your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to the sensations that flood your body as, his fingertips expertly make contact with the delicate fabric that separates you, effortlessly tracing the contours of your pleasure, stimulating your clit with a touch that sends shivers of ecstasy through your very core.

a delightful smile spreads across his face, mirroring the joy he derives from observing your reaction. his tail, a striking combination of black and white, sensually coils around one of your supple thighs, exerting gentle pressure as it squeezes twice, further igniting the sensations that course through your body.

"if i manage to make you cum before you finish washing my hair, i get to do whatever i want with your body," in a hushed whisper against your lips, he unveils a daring proposition that sends a surge of anticipation through your veins. his words hang in the air as his tongue darts out, teasingly licking your lips. sensing your agreement in the subtle nod of your head, he captures your bottom lip between his sharp teeth, an exhilarating mixture of pleasure and controlled dominance. with a firm grip on your wrists, he guides your hands, placing them on his wet curls, beckoning you to indulge in the intimate act of washing his hair. simultaneously, his skilled fingers begin their own sensual dance, expertly tending to your needs. as the intensity builds, he swiftly removes your hairtie, allowing your curls to cascade freely upon your flushed and breathless face, a disheveled visage that causes his length to stir and harden between his thighs.

with a possessive grip, he firmly grasps the nape of your neck, drawing you nearer to him. inhaling deeply, he indulges in the captivating fragrance that emanates from your body, the unmistakable scent of your arousal mingling with the air. in response to this intoxicating aroma, a primal growl escapes his chest, resonating with a primal desire that further intensifies the already overwhelming wetness between your thighs.

he skillfully loops two elongated fingers into the delicate fabric of your panties, effortlessly sliding them down your legs, the suspended water facilitating the process. the discarded underwear finds its temporary resting place on the bathroom floor. as you tug at his locks, you mutter a command, "you'll clean that up after."

"of course i will babe, 'cause you won't be able to walk when i'm done with you," he responds with a smoldering gaze, his eyes crinkling with a mix of affection. without hesitation, he presses his middle and index fingers into the welcoming warmth of your core, eliciting a powerful response that causes you to double over, succumbing to the intense penetration. a dry laugh escapes his lips, reveling in the sight of you, his owner, surrendering so completely in his embrace,

"my little slut, look at you, so pretty for me," he murmurs, too focused on the sight of your pussy greedily taking in his fingers. "i wonder who's gonna wear that fucking collar when we're done huh," his other hand sensually encircles your neck, exerting calculated pressure against the side, emphasizing each word. "me or you, mmh baby?" he playfully inquires, teasing you, fully aware of the way you can't find the strength to answer him, too focused on the overwhelming pleasure surging through your velvety walls and the slight suffocation he blesses you with.

his fingers caress the spongy spot within you, causing your attention to stray from the task at hand, flinching at his "come hither" motions. instead of focusing on washing his hair, your hands find their way around his neck, guiding his face towards your chest as you hug him with all your might. a soft sigh escapes his lips as he connects against the wet fabric of your camisole, his mouth enveloping your right nipple through the material. the sensations intensify as his touch becomes more fervent, more urgent, his thumb exploring your small bud of pleasure harshly, while still maintaining a level of tenderness. pleasure escapes you in fragmented whispers and whimpers, and his thrusts against your thigh grow more urgent, driven by an unquenchable desire that even the cascading water fails to slow his humping down.

your knees are rubbing harshly against the floor of the tub, yet you remain oblivious, lost in the haze of your own thoughts. a soft fuzziness envelops your mind, causing you to gradually detach from reality, your entire focus fixated solely on wooyoung's every move.

wooyoung, growing increasingly frustrated by the barrier of your camisole and yearning for direct skin-to-skin contact, forcefully tears it off your body. without hesitation, he presses his lips against your sternum, indulging in open-mouthed kisses that relish the sensation of your racing heartbeat pulsating beneath the heated flesh. sensing you tighten on his fingers, he smirks and lets his tongue trail from the center of your chest to the base of your neck, leaving a soft bite along the way. with heightened intensity and speed, he applies pressure to your sensitive clit, eliciting increasingly high-pitched moans from you, while his own whimpering "come on pretty girl, give it to me baby" echoes in harmony with your rhythm throughout the bathroom.

the water splashes gleefully onto the floor surrounding the tub, creating a watery canvas beneath you. in the midst of pure bliss, you let out a final moan, his name resonating with the intensity of your release as it merges with the cascading liquid. your breaths come in heaving gasps, and wooyoung brings you closer, embracing you in a passionate, uninhibited kiss where your tongues dance in harmonious rhythm. with tender affection, his hands lovingly stroke your thighs, guiding you to gently settle upon his waiting lap. soft and tender kisses rain upon your skin, causing you to surrender to the blissful moment, your eyes closing as you rest your head against his glowing, blushing chest. time stands still for a few precious minutes, allowing you to bask in the afterglow. then, wooyoung's hand cradles your face, his fingers delicately caressing your cheeks. as you gaze up at him, you're captivated by the ethereal sight of iridescent soap bubbles, adorning his eyebrows, fox ears and cheekbones like whimsical ornaments, adding a touch of enchantment to his already captivating features.

"you," he murmurs affectionately, planting a gentle kiss on your nose, his lips conveying tenderness. "lost," he continues, taking hold of your hand and guiding it to feel his firm, throbbing length, a mischievous smirk playing upon his lips.

masterlist

#brain rot #wooyoung.thirst #wooyoung #thirst #ateez #x you #smut #x reader #x yn #x y/n #scenarios #fanfic #blurbs #imagines #hard thoughts #hard hours #headcannon #hybrid

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etherealising · 5 months

Text

chapter nine | don’t say baby! [part one]

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing(s): carmen berzatto x fem!reader | male!oc x fem!reader

summary: the day of nat and pete’s baby shower has finally arrived.

wc: 6.2k

skin tones used in mood boards do not represent “baby” imagine her however your heart desires!

You sat criss-cross applesauce atop your island, a cup of iced lavender crème earl gray tea grasped in your hands as you took in the lively decorations scattered around your house. You’d been at it since eight this morning, the clock above your stove now read 11 a.m. It probably wouldn’t have taken as long if you asked the extra set of hands still asleep in your guest room for help. But after waking up this morning, you realized you just wanted to set up alone while in the comfort of your own home, before inviting everyone into your space. From your vantage point where you sat everything was perfect, exactly how you imagined it; only the best for Natalie and Pete.

You weren’t sure what to do with yourself now, all the decorations had been set up and now you were just waiting for the last of the desserts to finish up. While Pete had taken Nat out for her first day off in a while she’d mentioned to him a slew of deserts your mom used to make for you all growing up that she’d been craving, and what kind of friend would be if you didn’t indulge her pregnancy cravings.

Pete was instructed to show up with Nat at one, your group chat invitation asked for everyone else to arrive anytime before then to ensure everyone arrived on time. As you glanced at the balloon arch in your foyer and the boxes spelling out the word ‘baby’ you were nervous you had gone overboard, that Nat and Pete would think it was all too much. But with Pete telling you about Nat’s ideas you couldn’t help but go a bit overboard.

You glanced around your house one more time, a small laugh escaping you at the theme you’d chosen. It would’ve been a missed opportunity if you did anything other than a bear theme, you hoped everyone else got a laugh out of it the way you did. The more you looked at each decoration the more you forced yourself to not entertain the dozens of “what if” scenarios bouncing around your head. Those thoughts would bring nothing but negativity and as easy as it was to feed into the jagged wound of what once was, what could’ve been; you weren’t sure you had the energy to juggle both past and present today.

“Could’ve asked me for help.” You flinched at the sudden gruff morning voice traveling down your hallway.

Feet padding against the hardwood floor now alerting you of their towering presence next to you. You felt your nose scrunch as the rough scrape of a mustache caressed your temple along with cold lips.

You watched as Hayden walked around you, maneuvering around your kitchen like it was second nature, wearing his now wrinkled clothes from the previous night as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

He stood across from you on the opposite side of the island, forearms leaning against it, eyes darting to the many decorations behind you.

“I gotta run to the office, finalize some things for the gala,” he paused, raising the mug to his lips and taking a long sip. “I shouldn’t be too long.”

You nodded eyes unfocused as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth. Your eyes shot up as Hayden reached out thumb gently sliding your lip from its prison.

“You nervous or something? I remember you doing that before big exams.” You watched as he let his thumb linger in a soft caress.

“Something like that.” You muttered as he reluctantly pulled his hand away, eyes lingering a moment longer.

After the oddly intimate moment initiated by Hayden, the two of you sat in silence as the man drained his cup of coffee before moving to round up his belongings. It felt odd having Hayden in your house and you couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. You weren’t sure if it was because of the incident from the night before or if it was because deep down you were hoping another man would be the first to spend the night under the same roof as you.

Hayden approached from the hallway briefcase in hand, a small smile on his face as you got up to walk him to the door, neither of you saying a word as he slipped his shoes on before turning to look at you. “Uh…I guess I’ll see you later?”

You sent him a small smile nodding your head as you opened the door for him. You watched as his hand came up to cup the side of your cheek, thumb gently caressing the corner of your lips before he began leaning in. You froze, the moment reminiscent of the previous night.

His lips were hovering so close over yours that you could feel the tidy hairs of his mustache tickling your upper lip as he took your silence as an answer.

“No! hell no!” You flinched in Hayden’s hold as the loud Chicagoan accent rang from the steps of your porch through your ajar door. Hayden quickly removed himself from your space and straightened up like he’d just been caught doing something highly illegal.

You didn’t need to look to know who it was, that boisterous voice was a staple in your life for longer than you could remember. You felt flustered as Richie’s back came into view, his tall stature stepping through the door and between you and Hayden blocking you from each other’s view.

“I uh was just leaving?” The questioning tone of his voice proved he wasn’t sure who he was hoping to convince. “Good to see you Mr. Jerimovich.” A small chuckle left your lips at how uneasy Richie made Hayden.

You watched as Richie turned, handing you the dish he was holding before his free hand came down to cover the doorknob and wrench the door open even more, making it clear that Hayden had overstayed his welcome.

“Yeah mhm-hmm you too Hilary.” If the wrong name wasn’t enough, the tone of Richie’s voice sure was and it told you he did not share the same sentiment as Hayden.

Hayden furiously nodded his head taking a step over the threshold before searching for your eyes and sending you a strained smile. “Baby I’ll ca-,”

“Pack it up, Heather.” Richie’s last words were punctuated by the sound of your front door slamming in Hayden’s face. His tall figure could be seen through the mosaic window on your door, showing he was still standing on your porch in shock.

You watched as Richie quickly locked your door before moving past you to your kitchen, a small sigh left your lips as you could physically feel Richie’s ire radiating off of him.

“Good morning to you too Richie.” The sarcasm dripped from your voice as you took a seat at the barstool at your island, and set the dish down as Richie set your oven to preheat for the dish he brought.

He turned to you, arms crossed tightly against his chest, the disappointed frown on his face telling you all you needed to know as you prepared yourself for the lecture he was about to lay on you.

“You know Baby, I was okay with Carmen, not my favorite choice for you but I got over it. But that jagoff with his slicked back hair and carpet on his upper lip is where I draw the line.” It was taking every bit of control you had not to visibly roll your eyes.

“Richie I appreciate the concern, but need I remind you I am a grown woman capable of making my own decisions.” You shrugged, while you appreciated the love and care Richie had for you, this was not a topic you wanted to discuss on a day such as this one.

Richie’s lips rolled in as he nodded his head, a humorless laugh escaped him. “Are you though?” You frowned as he shrugged, holding his hands out in a placating manner. “I’m just sayin’ I learned you were a recovering addict 5 business days ago.”

“Says the 40-year-old divorcee still hung up on his ex-wife.” It was silent in the kitchen as the two of you just stared at each other. Richie’s jaw clenched in annoyance while you raised your eyebrow daring the older man to challenge you.

The stare-off was broken by the beeping of your oven, signifying it was ready. You watched as Richie took the tin foil off the top of the tray mumbling under his breath as he moved to place the tray in your oven.

Richie turned back around when he was done, eyes not meeting yours as he stood with his hands behind his back for a moment. “You’re really fucking mean sometimes you know that?” The pitch of his voice rose a bit as though he was whining.

A soft laugh rose in your throat before being dispelled into your kitchen at Richie’s childish antics, the noise causing Richie to laugh as well before the two of you settled on sharing matching grins. The moment was lost as you watched Richie’s eyebrows pinch together, his teeth beginning to worry his bottom lip as he leaned across the island, a position similar to the one Hayden was in not too long ago.

“Listen, Baby, I just don’t want you letting the emotions of today guide your judgment,” you listened intently as Richie held eye contact with you. “I mean I know I ain’t the best person to be taking advice from, but channeling your grief and feelings for Carmy into whatever the hell you’re doing with Hailey ain’t good for anybody.”

A small smile graced your lips at Richie’s innate need to constantly misname Hayden, but you knew there was some truth in his words. Honestly, you weren’t sure what the hell was going on between you and Hayden, in actuality, nothing was going on between the two of you until 24 hours ago. The small moment you shared was abruptly initiated by the man, and though the two of you worked together and rekindled your friendship, you weren’t sure it was a good idea for the two of you to try and relive your college years.

You let Richie’s words sink in a bit more as you realized how right he was. Hayden didn’t deserve to be used as another man’s replacement, and you didn’t deserve to fill the void his divorce left. And while there might always be some underlying lust between the two of you, you’d rather not lose a friendship you were just getting back and cherished more than the intimate times you shared.

“God we’re such losers Richie,” the man raised his eyebrows confused by your train of thought. “You’re still in love with your ex-wife, and I’m in love with a man I’ve never even been in a relationship with.”

Realization dawned on Richie’s face, head nodding up and down as he agreed with you. “How’s the Loveless Loser’s Club sound? I know a guy who can get us a deal on some shirts.”

The serious look on Richie’s face caused the both of you to laugh, coming to terms with how sad your lives were at the moment.

“You uh know Carmen’s coming today right?” Richie scratched the back of his head not sure where things were with you and the Berzatto boy.

You sighed nodding, grateful for Richie’s concern for you, “Would you believe it if I told you I invited him myself?”

“Is that why the kids been walking around the restaurant smiling like a fucking whack job?” Richie questioned eyebrows raising to his hairline like you’d just told him the juiciest piece of gossip ever. “No… wait a fucking minute, you were on the other line when I barged in on him on FaceTime in the walk-in!” If you didn’t know the context of this conversation you would’ve sworn Richie just cracked the biggest mystery of the century with how giddy he was.

“Little shit wouldn’t tell me who he was talking to, he was all smiles like he fuckin won the lottery or some shit!” You laughed at Richie's observations. “So the two of you cool again or somethin?”

You shrugged unsure as to how to explain the relative peace between you and Carmy at the moment. You couldn’t help the small smile itching to show itself as your mind went back to the myriad of text and phone calls the two you were exchanging since your confession. Half of the time the conversations the two of you shared were pointless.

“Or somethin'…we talked about the overdose but I wasn’t completely honest with him about certain things.” Your words became quieter towards the end of your sentence.

“You’ll tell him though.” It wasn’t a question and it wasn’t a demand either, just a simple statement of fact. “Baby I uh…it wasn’t my place to tell you to keep this from Carmy, and I’m sorry I made that decision for you. But I’ll be there by your side when you decide to tell him…I’ll support you through it.”

You nodded appreciating Richie’s words but feeling nauseous at the thought of telling Carmy such a horrible truth about yourself. “You didn’t make that decision for me Richie. As much as I hate to admit it, I…I think my mind was already made up.” Your shoulders raised in a slight shrug as the two of you shared sad smiles.

When the time was right you would be honest with Carmen, because if anyone deserved to know the truth it was him.

Hopping off the stool you walked around the island to wrap Richie in a hug, his tall frame embracing you in a hug you never knew you needed but always appreciated when given. You stood in each other’s arms for a moment longer letting the reality of life settle into you before stepping out of his embrace.

“Wanna help me frost the cupcakes?” You smiled as Richie rolled his eyes at your question before nodding his head, the both of you knew he wouldn’t turn you down.

Richie watched as you maneuvered to grab the cooling rack on the opposite counter. “I was serious about those losers' club shirts.”

A small huff of laughter escaped you as you shook your head back and forth at Richie’s antics before handing him a piping bag. The two of you engaged in quiet conversation as you worked around each other, a sense of ease falling over the kitchen as the pair of you worked like a well-oiled machine.

Richie shooed you out of the kitchen to go get ready after the two of you plated the various desserts you made. The man mocking you at times when you complained he hadn’t placed the sweets at the perfect angle, mumbling under his breath that you were no better than Carmy.

You finished getting ready a while ago letting Richie know you’d be in the backyard if he needed anything. And that’s exactly where you were now tucked into some lawn chair that’d been in the garage when you first bought the house. Your cardigan tucked tightly around you as your eyes focused on the small garden you’d started after moving in.

The pretty blue flowers that you’d grown to love had your sole attention as you watched the spring breeze blow through them. The solitude felt much needed before you prepared yourself to be a gracious host. Part of you wished you never agreed to throw this shower, the grief you never allowed yourself to feel, now painting your insides with resentment. Another part of you was grateful to have made it this far, to even have a chance to celebrate these milestones with the people you loved.

The longer you sat there staring at the flowers, the lonelier you felt. It felt a bit hypocritical, for you to have some sort of misguided resentment towards Natalie and Pete when you couldn’t even work up the courage to show Carmen all your cards, couldn’t let him in on a truth he deserved to know the moment you knew.

Blue flowers stared back at you mocking the emotional turmoil you were putting yourself through. You could be angry with no one but yourself, you were now reaping the consequences of the choices you made in the previous year. It was no one’s fault but your own.

A heavy hand resting upon your shoulder caused you to flinch, the gentle squeeze pressed into the fabric of your cardigan letting you know the person behind you wasn’t a threat, and the signature scent of the off-brand laundry detergent they used led to the conclusion that it was Richie.

He was so close you could feel the warmth radiating off of him onto your neck, you felt his hand begin to knead your shoulder, the soft touch easing the tension your body had been building up throughout the weeks of preparation.

“People are gonna start to arrivin’ soon Babes.” You nodded absentmindedly as your eyes stayed glued to the blue bulbs, forcing yourself to face the reality of the life you were leading; reminding you of what a shitty person you were for keeping this secret from Carmen. “I could say you’re not feelin’ hot let you waste away in that big ass fucking bed of yours.”

You let out a quiet hollow laugh at Richie’s words, wishing the world would swallow you whole at that moment. “We both know Nat wouldn’t buy that.” Richie made a hum of agreement before walking around to stand in front of you, a familiar cartridge in the hand he held out to you eyebrows raised in question.

Your eyes landed on the packet of cigarettes contemplating just how overwhelmed you were in that moment before your eyes flashed back to the flowers. You let out a small sigh before standing up, dusting the nonexistent dirt off your outfit, you gave Richie a small nod before walking around him following the path that led to the gate that separated your backyard from the front. At the lack of footsteps echoing behind you, you stopped before turning to look at Richie. “Not in front of the flowers.”

The confused expression once marring his features dissipated into understanding as he took the steps to follow you out of the gate. It was stupid really, they were just flowers, and depending on which way the wind blew they’d still feel the stinging caress of the nicotine you were about to indulge in.

But you couldn’t stand another second staring at those vibrantly sad flowers.

Carmen wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the sight of you with a cigarette between your lips. His eyes traced you and Richie standing at the side of your house, the older man talking animatedly as you nodded along to whatever outrageous story he was telling. He sat there for a moment just staring at the two of you wondering how privy Richie was to the past year of your life, the sound of the car turning off not pulling him out of his analysis of you and Richie. He was almost positive Richie knew about your overdose and definitely was privy to whatever sickness you’d contracted upon returning to Chicago. It just made Carmy wonder if Richie knew about the tumultuous year you had, why didn’t he ever mention anything to him; why didn’t Nat?

“Carm?” He blinked eyes moving from the window to the wide green eyes staring at him from the driver's seat. “Lost you there for a minute, you okay?” Carmy watched as Claire’s brow furrowed in concern, eyes blinking rapidly as he nodded, sending a small awkward smile to the woman. “Well c’mon then Bear.” She laughed as she said his nickname sending a bright smile his way before she began exiting from the car.

A small huff of laughter escaped him as he followed suit, eyes catching yours as you watched the two of them move to the trunk of the car, face unreadable before you took one more drag of your cigarette before stomping it out, eyes leaving Carmy’s to dart back and forth between him and Claire obviously trying to piece that puzzle together.

Carmy reached into the trunk to grab his respective present and the dish he’d brought, patiently waiting for Claire to grab her share before he shut the trunk. The two of them made their way up the drive, Claire practically buzzing in excitement next to him.

“You know those things kill right?” Claire’s words echoed around the group as the two of you shared a hug.

“Not fast enough apparently.” Claire laughed at your statement as the two of you pulled away, Carmen gave you a blank stare finding your words less than amusing, as Richie raised his hand to swat the back of your head.

Claire and Carmy watched as you turned to glare at Richie, the man returning his own irritated gaze upon you. It was silent as the newcomers stood awkwardly watching you and Richie have some sort of unspoken conversation as the two of you stared each other down. The clearing of Claire’s throat pulled the two out of your moment but not before you sent your elbow into Richie’s rib cage and he flicked the tip of your ear.

“Claire Bear! It’s so great to see you, not sure why you came with this loser,” Richie offhandedly gestured to Carmy who stood there like a deer in headlights staring at you. “But nonetheless, welcome, let's get this inside.” Richie reached out to take the dish from Claire’s hand before gesturing for her to follow him.

Carmen watched as Claire and Richie fell into comfortable conversation, not letting himself turn his attention to you until the door shut firmly behind them. The small cough you let out finally drew his blue eyes back to your figure.

“So…” his eyes met yours a feeling of awkwardness floating between the two of you, while you may have been falling back into old habits through text and phone conversations being face to face like this reminded Carmy of when he was 16 and trying to force himself to ask you out.

“You and Claire look great together.” Your words caught Carmy by surprise considering to no fault of her own Claire was the exact reason the two of you fell out all those weeks ago.

Carmy nodded, eyes searching yours for anything other than the forced act he could tell you were putting on. “We’re uh not together, n-not like that. I mean we are together like we arrived together, b-but we aren’t…” Carmy found himself trailing off as you let out a soft laugh, eyes seeming to light up at his fumbling.

“Carm, you don’t have to explain anything to me,” he nodded watching as your eyes darted between his eyes before moving your focus somewhere past him. “If you’re happy I’m happy Carmen.” The smile on your face almost made it believable, but he knew you.

He knew that since your move back to Chicago this was the second time you lied directly to his face.

Carmy stood around pretending to listen to a debate between Marcus and Fak about something he didn’t have the mental capacity to care about. For the past 20 minutes, his eyes were focused on you, watching as you greeted the remaining guests which was mostly just the crew from work. The word subtle was not in Carmen’s vocabulary as he’d been caught by you too many times to make his starring a coincidence but apparently not enough times to shame him into stopping.

He found himself thankful that Claire was too preoccupied in her conversation with Syd and Tina to notice the way he’d been studying you since entering your house. He couldn’t help but wince as he thought of Claire, he wasn’t lying to you, the two of them weren’t together at least he didn’t think he was giving off those signs. It wasn’t like he knew how relationships worked, the only experience he had was 48 hours with you, and look how that ended.

Carmy wasn’t exactly sure what was transpiring between him and Claire. To him, it was just two old friends reconnecting, but sometimes he found himself noticing the way Claire’s fingers would ghost across his arm or the slight way she’d lean her head against his shoulder. All things he’d done with you and found comfort in, but with Claire, it felt like more than a friendly gesture. Not that he had much to say in that department considering he lost his virginity to his best friend a year ago, but he knew he didn’t want more with Claire in the way he wanted more with you; he just wasn’t sure Claire knew that.

Carmen watched as you answered the door, a small smile gracing your lips as you opened the door wider to let the guest in. He eyed the two of you, obviously, some type of familiarity between both of you as he wrapped you in his arms hugging you for longer than Carmy thought necessary. He felt his eyebrows crease as the man leaned down placing a delicate kiss into your hair before placing another one on your cheek. You stepped out of his embrace smiling up at him before removing the gift bag in his hands and gesturing him into the room.

Carmy couldn’t help but feel like he knew the man who seemed to walk into the room and gather attention, Carmy assessed the man feeling inadequate as he took in the fancy slacks and button-up he was wearing. The shirt almost looked purposely small accentuating the muscles through the sleeves, two buttons undone as though wearing the shirt properly would suffocate him.

The two men locked eyes, Carmy doing his best to appear neutral as the man made his way towards him smiling like he knew a secret Carmy didn’t.

“Carmen Berzatto man, it's been a long time.” Carmy watched the man laugh, clapping a solid hand onto his shoulder pearly whites almost blinding the chef.

Carmy nodded trying to place how this man knew his name, he didn’t want to be pretentious and assume it was through his culinary work or accolades, and even though the voice sounded familiar he couldn’t quite place the face.

The man laughed, dropping his hand from Carmy’s shoulder “Don’t hurt yourself. Hayden Ivanovski, from high school?”

It took every bit of control Carmy had not to outright frown in the man’s face, of course, Hayden fucking Ivanovski was standing in front of him. It was bad enough he was standing in his own way when it came to his chances with you, now he had to deal with his high school competition.

“Oh yeah, yeah, guess the stache threw me off.” Carmy forced a laugh

Hayden nodded as he made his way to the kitchen, something compelling Carmy to follow as the taller of the two produced two beers from your fridge handing one off to Carmy giving him no time to wonder why the beverage was in your fridge in the place.

“It threw Baby off too,” Carmy couldn’t help but bristle at Hayden’s use of your nickname, the two-syllable word didn’t sound right coming from his lips. “How’s the restaurant coming along?”

Carmy followed the bottle to Hayden’s lips, eyebrows furrowed as he watched the man take a swig, “Good yeah uh great…coming along great.” The underlying question in his words was obvious, confusion coursing through him at Hayden’s question.

“Don’t worry,” Hayden’s hands raised in a mock surrender. “Not stalking you or anything, I just okayed Baby’s article on the project.” Carmen’s confusion only worsened not following what Hayden was saying. “We work together at the Tribune.” Hayden shrugged like it was no big deal.

Because it was no big deal, at least to him. But Carmy felt his stomach sink at the information, the fact that Hayden had access to your attention far more than Carmy did to settle the bubble of irritation in his stomach.

It was quiet between the two men after that revelation was uncovered, neither of them eager to continue the conversation in any way. Carmy watched as Hayden finished the contents of his bottle before moving to place it in the recycling bin and making his way back to Carmy’s side.

“I actually wanted to thank you, man.” Hayden stood in front of Carmy arms crossed so tightly against his chest Carmy was sure his biceps would rip the sleeves of his shirt.

Carmy nodded unsure as to what he was being thanked for, his body’s fight or flight mode in overdrive as he offered Hayden one last curt nod before placing his unopened beer bottle down on the island prepared to leave the awkward confines of this conversation.

“Keep fuckin with Baby’s emotions the way you do and I won’t have to do much work to convince her I’m the better option.” Hayden’s words caused Carmy to stop in his tracks, the blank expression on his face finding the smug one painting Hayden’s.

“You see Carmen,” Hayden moved forward, stepping into Carmy’s space. “You keep pushing her away, and the more you push her away, the more I get to console her, dry her tears, make her feel better in ways you could only imagine.” Carmy felt his face flush at what the man in front of him was implying.

“Look at her,” Carmy reluctantly turned his head, your laugh jingling in his ears as he watched you converse with Tina. “You wouldn’t know what the fuck to do with a woman like that if she came with an instruction manual. Listen all I’m sayin' Boss, just quit while you’re ahead, let someone else give her the life she deserves.” Hayden shrugged, eyeing you from his spot next to Carmy hand moving in a small wave as you looked in their direction.

Carmy stiffened as Hayden gripped his hand pulling him into a hug and slapping his back harder than necessary. He tried to remove himself from the embrace as Hayden tightened his arms around the shorter man. “I don’t usually kiss and tell but…” Carmy could feel his blood boiling the longer he stood there locked in this conversation. “You wouldn’t believe how dirty she gets behind closed doors.”

Carmy stood frozen as Hayden finally let him go, what was a five-minute conversation felt like an eternity for him. He couldn’t help but feel like throwing up, the words Hayden had spoken with such confidence made him sick to his stomach. As disgusted as Hayden’s words made Carmen feel, he was sure there was some truth to them.

He wouldn’t give merit to the statements regarding whatever intimacy there was between you and Hayden, but he knew if he didn’t get his shit together you weren’t going to keep waiting around for him. A part of him knew the man was just trying to get under his skin, it was only a couple of nights ago when you asked for his friendship and he couldn’t let whatever misogynistic bullshit Hayden was trying to pull get to him.

As Carmy stood in your kitchen watching Hayden connect to you like a leech, he couldn’t help the images Hayden had procured from bouncing around in his head. Carmen didn’t think he was a jealous man, he didn’t seem to ever have anything in life to be jealous about; envious sure, but never jealous.

But as he let Hayden’s words play on repeat in his head, he couldn’t help but feed the little green monster growing inside him the longer he looked at you and Hayden. The tall man caught his eye from across the room as he smirked before leaning down to plant a kiss on your head before turning to greet Tina.

Carmy watched the moment with a blank stare trying to disregard the sour feeling settling in his stomach. His eyes glazed over the longer he focused on your small group and he couldn’t deny the fact that you and Hayden looked like the picture-perfect couple tucked next to each other. Carmy was broken out of his trance by the light touch to his bicep, eyes blinking rapidly as he found Claire now standing in his line of sight.

“Carm, hey,” He watched as Claire chuckled hand gently massaging his arm. “I’ve been trying to get your attention you know.”

He nodded distractedly eyes finding yours over Claire’s shoulder as you watched the two of them from your own corner of the room. Carmy held your gaze for a minute, neither of you daring to look away from the other, the emotions in your eyes conveying something Carmy couldn’t quite understand as he drank in the undivided attention you gave him. You broke the stare first, eyes trailing to Claire’s hand still latched onto him, he felt his heart clench watching as you sent him a small smile before turning to leave your conversation.

Carmen turned his attention back to Claire who sent another squeeze to his arm, eyebrow raised as she waited for an explanation. “My bad I uh I just zoned out.” He forced a small smile allowing her to take his hand and lead him towards the front door. She stopped them at a small table set up with various colorful pens, markers and stickers sprawled across it for anyone to use.

His eyes caught on a familiar Polaroid Camera that not only held memories for the two of you but printed out some of his favorite photos of you. He watched as Claire grasped it before handing it to him.

“It's to make scrapbook pages,” He nodded fingers clutching the camera like it held the secrets of the universe. “Baby’s gonna bind the pages we make here and gift them to Pete and Nat. Take my picture?”

Carmen’s head shot to Claire at the question, her smiling face encouraging him to do as she asked before he stared at the relic of a camera in his hands. He hesitated before nodding motioning Claire to pose as he stood in front of the balloon arch taking up most of your entryway. Carmy gave her a small nod before raising the camera to his eye readying himself to take the picture.

The gesture sent his mind reeling to the last time he’d used this camera the context of those memories sending a blush up his neck. He cleared his throat moving the camera to rest against his torso, “I uh…I think it needs more film.” His words went unanswered as Richie was distracting Claire with whatever he deemed necessary to bore her with.

Carmen felt a bit bad for lying to Claire about the camera needing film, but he just couldn’t get himself to snap a picture of another woman using the same camera the two of you used after such a vulnerable moment shared between you both.

Wandering away from the balloon arch, Carmen found himself looking at the camera in his hands mind racing with thoughts of you. The two of you didn’t have much time to converse since he’d arrived and for all the back and forth the two of you were doing over the phone, he was hoping for a warmer welcome in person. It would be naive of him to believe the two of you would fall back into your friendship from all those years and two things proved this to him.

The first was his ever-growing and constant feelings for you.

And the second; how easy it was for you to lie to his face.

a/n: suuurpriseeee! this update is so out of left field so please do not get your hopes up. if anything i hope this update can give you a silly goofy fic to indulge in for a bit 🤍

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #the bear fic #the bear x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy the bear x reader #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

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averageallogene · 9 months

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Hiii I hope u don’t mind taking my request, Tighnari with a breeding kink, and slight degradation. Is that okay? U don’t have to do it ofc <33

Hi there, dearest! ♡ Of course it's more than okay! Since it wasn't specified whether you wished for a fem! reader or not, I went with gender neutral, hope it's alright~♡

NSFW Warning!!

Tighnari huffs as his hand roughly grasps their hair, his hold nearly loosening amidst their locks as his eyes threatened to close on themselves. The view before him was positively to die for, his baby working arduously as they took more and more of his throbbing cock into their mouth. The sensation as their tongue stroked every vein of his girth had him seeing stars, jawline clenching in as he surpressed a moan to himself.

"Look at you, taking me with such- Agh, desperation." Despite his harsher tone, the occasional groan of pleasure wasn't uncommon to hear escaping from him, whispering through the innocent façade how much he was enjoying the show. "You're such a little slut aren't you? If you wanted to get your throat fucked so bad-" Another groan, his tip hitting the back of their throat. "-you could've just asked."

All he recieves back are whines and groans, the vibration having Tighnari seeing white as his eyes nearly rolled back. His vision focused back however, carefully slowing their pace down as they eagerly swallowed more of his length into their mouth, puffy lips wrapping around his cock as the tears threatened to fall down.

He can feel himself nearly coming undone, a sudden yank to their hair pulling them back before an audible pop can be heard. There is a small string connecting the tip of his throbbing length to their lips, the substance white and drooping down before sticking to the side of their face. His eyes land on their blushing face, eyeing him with with a foggy glance that only further fueled his desires. The fur on Tighnari's tail puffs as a response, every inch of his body shivering in a long and intense wave as he licked his dried lips.

"Alright, enough playing around... We can't afford to waste my load, can we?" His hands are quick to maneuver them around, quickly laying down before feeling their body fully press against his aching cock. Another sensual groan threatened to leave his throat before he shut himself up, instead focusing on enjoying the view as his darling began grinding against him. "Come on, it's right in front of you. Why don't you go ahead and begin bouncing on me, my little slut?"

Their eyes shimmered as they shivered, quickly obliging and taking his entire length with ease. Praises were quick to follow on their end, hips lifting them up and down in a set pace as their hands found themselves on his shoulders.

"Ah~ Tighnari, mmm- S-So big!" His head was spinning at their words, grunting as he snapped his own hips to meet them further within. Their back arched deliciously, nails digging into his skin as Tighnari's hands sought security on their ass.

"Y-You're taking me so well, just as expected-" He huffed, his fangs lingering closer and close before he felt as they tilted their head, granting him access to mark them up as he saw fit. His lips brushed against their neck, the smile being felt as they continued to bounce up and down on him. "-Such a needy whore, you want to milk me dry so bad don't you?"

"Please~ I'm, mm-ah, I'm sorry, f-for being such a dirty slut!" Whines followed suit as he cooed in response, agreeing with their pitiful state as he bit his lip. His hips were snapping by themselves at that point, Tighnari feeling his urges slowly taking hold of him.

"Exactly, you're nothing but my little cum slut." He sighed out, the mere term making his head spin.

His teeth found themselves a playground as they marked and experimented on their skin, the moans in response only further fueling him as he continued to guide them on taking him nice and easy. He felt himself widly throbbing, the accumulation of pleasure from the previous face fucking catching up to him quickly as his cock threatened to soon leak his load. One of his hands quickly lifted from their ass, yanking them by their hair to have their back curve sensually for him. His cock reached further in, the pair moaning in unison as his glowing gaze analyzed his partner with intensity.

"You're about to cum, aren't you baby?" He purred, watching as they only nodded desperately, drooling slightly as they continued to move their hips wildly. In response, Tighnari only pulled their hair a little harder, hips snapping vigorously as a warning to follow his lead as the good cum slut that they were. "Then tell me, where do you- Ah, want it?"

"Inside, please 'Nari!" Their eyelashes fluttered as they bit their own fingernail, moaning in pure bliss as their zenith rapidly approached. His own claws dug a little deeper into their own flesh, groaning to himself as he began rutting wildly into their core.

"I'm going to paint your every hole before we're done- You'll look- ah, so lovely, covered in my seed. I'm going to, ngh, breed you so, so well." He huffed under his breath, his pace increasing with vigor before eventually reaching his limit right besides them.

Even throught their high, Tighnari kept thrusting, slowing down as he rode his own high with heavy breath. Their ass continued to grind against him as if hungry for more, moaning in delight as they babbled on about how good they felt. His hairs stood at the back of his neck as his eyes lowered, practically glueing themselves to watch as his seed leaked out, staining the sheets below them as he licked his lips.

Unexpectedly so, the ranger was quick to flip them around, now hovering atop his beloved as he caged them between his arms. Lifting their legs with ease, his tail swayed wildly, his own eyes now foggy as he gave them a menacing smile.

"Tsk tsk, looks like some of it was wasted. Guess I'll just have to give you another load for good measure..."

Carefully leaning in, he watched as they lifted their head up, practically begging him for a kiss. Replying with only a kitty lick to their bruised lips, Tighnari purred.

"But it's not like you'd mind, right my greedy whore?~"

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact tighnari x reader #tighnari x reader #genshin x reader #yoko drabbles

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 4 months

Text

part 15 - we’re all misunderstood

"Me and all my friends, we're all misunderstood. They say we stand for nothing and there's no way we ever could." -Waiting On The World To Change by John Mayer

Masterlist Part 14

The Watchtower was a marvel of engineering and fortitude, constantly in orbit above Earth among the star-studded void of space.

Just a quick glance out of the meeting hall window had proved to the Regent that her little brother would love it here. He’d inherited the innovative side of Fentonworks more than she, so the combination of one of his obsessions and tech to fiddle with was a dream come true.

(She’d inherited the ruthlessness of Maddie Fenton.)

Batman, the Dark Knight her little brother had trusted and the father of her soulmate, tapped away at a tablet in hand before turning his focus to her at ease form, hands clasped behind her back. Wonder Woman stood at her side and Superman at the other. A flanking maneuver it seemed.

The Regent would’ve been offended if they didn’t consider her a threat, despite her willingness to discuss war prevention between the Infinite Realms and the Living Realm. Her armor alone was meant to be intimidating at first appearance, but it was the woman sealed into it that gave off the vibes of ‘Approach with caution’. She was a Warrior, not a pacifist,and everything she presented about herself was meant to signify that.

However, the Regent was trained by the Ancient of Peace and would demand a peaceful resolution to a crisis rather than conflict, even if the Liminal had no desire for a battle against the Justice League.

Constantine was a familiar presence in the room. The Laughing Magician had a soft spot for her little brother, but she felt the claim she had of his soul. It was cracked and missing so many pieces, but it was still a good one. The Sad Trenchcoat Man might’ve been a career drunk and conman, but that didn’t mean he was unnecessarily bad.

He wouldn’t be here if he was.

The man in question spoke first, much to the obvious surprise of those present, “How’s Phantom?”

Her helmet turned to face him down where he sat a few feet away, an unopened flask resting on his thigh, “He is fine. Would you like me to pass on a message?”

Constantine seemed to relax for a moment before shaking his head, “Nah, the kid bugs me enough.”

“Regent.” Batman interrupted. “We would appreciate it if you could answer some questions we have regarding some disturbing files we received from Phantom.”

The Liminal nodded, “I suspected as much. I cannot speak much on behalf of the King or others not present, but I will answer what I can truthfully.”

“Thank you, My Lady, for your willingness to discuss such things with us.” Wonder Woman offered with sincerity in her words.

The Regent shook her helmeted head, “I’d rather peace than be across from one another on the battlefield, Princess.”

“Wisely so.”

The Knight tapped on his tablet again, a projection of one of the Ghost Files documents spreading across the wall behind the Bat, the man in question returning his attention to her.

“Why does the King require a Regent?”

If Bruce was being honest, which he was, he’d rather be anywhere else than here in the Watchtower about to helm peace talks between the Infinite Realms and Earth. He’d rather be eating dinner with his children, questioning Phantom about Jason’s whereabouts, or even on patrol- anywhere but here.

It wasn’t even the presence of the armored woman who’d answered in place of the King Constantine had been asked to summon, rather Bruce wanted nothing to do with the Death Energy he felt in lapses radiating from the Regent that felt… cleaner than that of what Ra’s Al Ghul or Talia had.

Bruce wanted answers.

But he also wanted to be anywhere but here.

He supposed it was his self-preservation instincts trying to get him away from the being that’s been summoned, he had no choice but to stay though.

“The King is too young.” The Regent replied evenly, hands clasped in front of her stomach, much like Diana would when trying to demonstrate that she’s prepared to draw her sword at a given moment. “There is still much for him to learn and experience before he is ready for the Crown.”

Batman hummed, even though Constantine spluttered in shock- “A kid defeated Pariah Dark in single combat?”

“Yes.”

“There are some questions that we would like to have recorded for the record, would you be amenable to this?” Batman interrupts, “We would also discuss public use.”

Regent nods, helmet tinting a darker green as the Watchtower lights slant across it for a brief moment. “I accept, though there are some answers that are not mine to give.” The woman takes a breath, “I cannot give the identity of the King without his permission, nor can I discuss how or when he died.”

“Is there a particular reason why?” Superman asks. “It is considered taboo to ask a ghost anything related to their death because it can cause them to relieve it.” A pause, “Ghosts, or Ecto-Entites, are a fighting-based culture. They are beings of varying intelligence, thoughts, and emotions- sentient and sapient, much like humans and aliens. Capable of great things, both good and evil.”

Bruce processed those words, a pit of horror forming in his chest. How many times has this woman said those exact words, hoping for them to be heard? They were eloquent, with the formality that hinted at diplomatic training, but with so much hope that it almost physically hurt.

Capable of great things, both good and evil.

Wasn’t that the choice Bruce made every time he put on the cowl? Anytime one of his kids got hurt and he felt such rage in his bones? He made the choice every day to do good and while it may not be great in the broader scale of things, it was to somebody somewhere. That was what it meant to be alive, to have free will, to exist.

Now he finally understood why Phantom gave him the Ghost Files.

He needed this. This confrontation of what it means to exist outside of Bats and Birds, the cowl and the mask, as a being. Would Bruce have listened had he not seen the Files? If he hadn’t seen the inhumanity committed upon the inhuman? What evil would he have perpetuated had he refused to listen?

(Tim might think he had been the only one to watch the video of Danny Fenton’s death.)

(He was wrong.)(What if he hadn’t heard the wail?)(What if he hadn’t seen the rebirth of Fenton to Phantom?)

With all the bloodshed the GIW had on their collective hands, they would not go quietly.

The Regent had emphasized their zealot tendencies, hypocritical ideology perpetuated by the Drs. Fentons and somewhat lackluster training, but exceedingly advanced technology geared explicitly towards Ecto-Entities in her testimony to the Justice League in the hours that followed. Several examples from the Ghost Files were explained and expanded on, including the destruction of the Casper High Gym which resulted in the death of a faculty member and the maiming of a student. Evidence of the town roads being utterly demolished, what looks like the aftermath of war being the norm for the citizens as they try to go about their daily lives.

She had prepared to discuss all the above, and gone through various questions she’d been expecting from the League, but she had steadfastly avoided thoughts of the GIW’s unethical experimentation. Naturally, the League began this particular section with the Files’ opened to what Danny, Tucker, and Sam had included, a warning issued to all present that what they were about to watch was grotesque and to leave the room if they felt unable to hold the contents of their stomachs.

The Regent was an older sister, a daughter, a leader, and a warrior- but she was still only able to take so much. (She hadn’t known the Fentons recorded Danny’s Phantom’s vivisection.)

(She hadn’t known they called each other sweetie and fudge-kins while digging in his chest cavity.)

Fury was a familiar enemy and friend in equal breaths, existing in the space between her ribs and her heart, trapped by a cage of bone and will.

Fury echoed by her mirror image that entered the camera frame, sword first and merciless as she gutted Jack Fenton.

(Regret was nowhere to be found.)(Shame had no place here.)

“By Realms Law 2127 subsection 32f paragraph 3: liminals, mortals, all in between may be promptly judged and or executed on grounds of threat to End a protector spirit or child. May also be decreed as battlefield law when faced with a sufficiently armed opponent and or external force.” The Regent recited monotonously. “Drs. Fenton also could have been tried for Invasion by opening the portal, but Phantom was able to give them a pardon.”

“On what grounds?” Wonder Woman questioned, “He is a protector spirit, yes?”

“Yes, which allowed the previous Law to be enacted and legal. By him acting within Amity Park and using Fenton tech to catch Ghosts, he gave them a pardon by an unspoken alliance.”

“An alliance they broke,” Batman this time was clearly angry too in his clenched fists were any indication, “when they vivisected Phantom.”

“Yes.” The Regent continued, “Make no mistake, I uphold the Realms Law to the best of my abilities and expect my subjects and my council to do the same. We are a people and people have societies, societies have structures and without that, we would be no better than what the GIW claims us to be.”

“Well spoken, My Lady.” Wonder Woman complemented, clearly taken by the Regent’s speech.

“This is all gory and horrifying, but we still haven’t talked about preventing a bloody war.”

While he’d been quietly observing the meeting, minor mutterings here and there, Constantine remained the only Dark member present. The Regent was somewhat fond of the Sad Man, even without having ownership over his soul (or the majority of shards) he would remain a fond memory for the Nightingales.

“My Lady,” the Magician belatedly addressed her, clearly having recalled to whom exactly he was speaking.

“Constantine,” Batman warned, “we’ll get to that.”

“Indeed we shall. In fact,” the Regent twirled a hand in a graceful motion “the Anti-Acto Acts is the main point of contention on the docket and allows that,” now she thrust a pointed finger at the Files’ section on ‘experimentation’, “to be legal.”

“It’s been discussed, previously, to bring these laws before the UN with a censored version of the Ghost Files.”

The Regent nodded almost immediately, “If you can, yes, but I would recommend leaking some of the data for the public to judge.”

“Amity Park, for instance?” Superman asked, “Let the public choose a side and put pressure on the UN.”

“Perhaps.” WW nodded, “Though there is likely chance that blame will be shifted onto the Ghosts solely for the damage.”

“We can show the footage of the attacks that caused them.” Batman interjected, “As well as the videos of Phantom protecting Amity’s citizens at risk to himself.”

The Regent agreed, “There are also videos of teenagers practicing drills for Ghost and Ghost Hunter attacks.”

“What about sitting for an interview for a newspaper?” Superman suggested, “I can get a reputable reporter to conduct it.”

“That can be done.”

The Regent felt a slight tug on her Proto-Core, a shiver down her spine to follow- her little brother was trying to summon her back to him. Nothing urgent, not with just a slight tug, not an emergency.

It had been quite a while here anyway and she missed her boys.

“I’m afraid I am being summoned for a council meeting.” The Regent announced, “If I am needed again-“

She took a breath before turning to Batman, “You May summon me, Dark Knight, through your Lady’s Claim.”

A friendly handshake with Superman, “Have your reporter meet me in the Ridge next Friday during the Witching Hours.”

A clasping of arms with Wonder Woman, Warrior to warrior, “When this is settled, I would ask for a spar, Princess.”

And the Regent was gone in a torrent of icy green-tinted mist.

A/N:

Happy new year!

I can't believe it's 2024 already! Feels like I just got used to writing 2023.

As always, thanks to the wonderful beta @meditating-cat, who also let me who use them as a sounding board for ideas for the Regent earlier. I cannot wait to write those ideas, let me tell you.

As always, if you have any song suggestions please feel free to share and check out the masterlist for the rest of the series. It's always updated afterwards!

Thanks for reading!

#dp x dc #dp x dc au #dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #jazz fenton #regent!jazz #jason todd #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #batman #anti-ecto acts #let's get it #happy new year 2024 #lets start it off right with the end of the GIW

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