#one touch daring and one delicate ✨ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

princess-sof-time · 11 months

Note

Moonie-chan is here to bring you another wild and silly request 😉✨

Could you write for Meliodas, King, Ban (Nanatsu no Taizai) and Naruto, Hinata and Rock Lee(Naruto) (if you want to add someone else its okay, i will love to read more of it!) with a S/O that has a lot of scars in their body for a past almost deadly experience but is something that doesn't bother them more, like reader had already made peace with their past so they do jokes about it casually or has the silliest and unreal excuses to explain their scars when someone askslike joking

I love your requests Moonie-chan!

🄼🄴🄻🄸🄾🄳🄰🅂

• Meliodas, the captain of the Seven Deadly Sins, looked at his S/O with a mix of admiration and curiosity. Their body bore the marks of a past that had tested their strength and resilience. Scars, like battle-worn trophies, adorned their skin, serving as a testament to their survival. However, what truly captivated Meliodas was their lighthearted approach to these marks, turning what could be seen as reminders of pain into a source of humor.

• One evening, as they sat together, Meliodas couldn't help but ask about a particularly prominent scar. With a mischievous twinkle in their eye, his S/O launched into an outlandish tale involving a daring escapade with mythical creatures. Their words flowed effortlessly, painting a vivid picture of a fantastical encounter that had left them marked but unscathed. Meliodas chuckled, recognizing the playfulness behind their words, and joined in the whimsical storytelling, adding his own embellishments to the tale.

🄺🄸🄽🄶

• King, the Grizzly's Sin of Sloth, observed his S/O with a tender gaze. Their scars, scattered across their body like delicate brushstrokes, fascinated him. He was well aware of the immense strength and resilience it took to bear such marks. Yet, what truly enamored King was their ability to embrace their scars with lightheartedness and humor.

• One afternoon, King found himself drawn to a particularly intricate scar on his S/O's arm. With a gentle smile, he asked about its origin. Much to his surprise, they responded with a whimsical tale involving a mischievous fairy and a grand adventure through enchanted forests. Their eyes sparkled with mirth as they spun a tale that left King both in awe and in stitches. Their ability to weave humor into their past wounds left him with a profound admiration for their resilience and strength.

🄱🄰🄽

• Ban, the immortal bandit, watched his S/O intently, his gaze tracing the contours of their scars. His own body bore the marks of countless battles, but the scars etched upon his S/O's skin held a different significance. These were the remnants of a past filled with near-death experiences—a testament to their indomitable spirit and unyielding will to survive.

• Curiosity piqued, Ban playfully inquired about the story behind a particularly long scar. Without missing a beat, his S/O launched into an elaborate tale involving daring heists, ancient curses, and legendary treasures. Ban's laughter filled the air as he recognized the familiar twinkle of mischief in their eyes. Their ability to make light of their scars and transform them into tales of adventure only deepened his admiration for the person they had become.

🄴🄻🄸🅉🄰🄱🄴🅃🄷 🄻🄸🄾🄽🄴🅂

• Elizabeth Liones, a gentle and compassionate soul, found herself inexplicably drawn to a unique individual. Her significant other possessed a body adorned with scars, reminders of a past brush with mortality. While these marks would evoke concern in most, the reader had embraced their scars with a lighthearted spirit, using humor as their shield.

• Their casual and playful nature, mixed with a touch of mischief, led the reader to respond to inquiries about their scars with the most absurd and outlandish explanations. When someone curiously asked about the origins of a particularly prominent mark, the reader would flash a mischievous grin and spin a tale about wrestling ferocious dragons in faraway lands or engaging in daring adventures that defied the laws of nature.

• Elizabeth found herself enamored by their S/O's remarkable ability to transform their past struggles into a source of amusement. She admired the reader's strength, both in enduring their ordeal and in finding the courage to embrace their scars with joy and resilience. Their vibrant spirit complemented her own compassionate nature, forging a bond that transcended the physical realm.

🄽🄰🅁🅄🅃🄾 🅄🅉🅄🄼🄰🄺🄸

• Naruto, the spirited shinobi, regarded his S/O with awe as he observed their scars. Each mark told a story of battles fought and hardships overcome. It was a testament to their unwavering strength and resilience in the face of adversity. But what truly amazed Naruto was their ability to bring levity and humor to the scars that once held painful memories.

• One day, as they strolled hand in hand, Naruto's curiosity got the better of him, and he playfully prodded his S/O about a particularly unique scar. With a mischievous grin, they launched into an outrageous explanation involving ninja cats, exploding watermelons, and a mishap with a particularly aggressive squirrel. Naruto laughed, the sound echoing through the streets as he recognized the playful nature behind their words. In that moment, he couldn't have been prouder of the strength and joy they brought into their lives, scars and all.

🄷🄸🄽🄰🅃🄰 🄷🅈🅄🄶🄰

• Hinata Hyuga, with her gentle demeanor and unwavering determination, found herself captivated by the spirit of her S/O. Their body adorned with scars, remnants of a harrowing past, only served to further ignite Hinata's admiration for their strength. Although the scars were a reminder of the battles fought, her S/O had made peace with their past, embracing life with a lightheartedness that was contagious.

• In the quiet moments shared between them, Hinata witnessed her S/O's resilience manifest in the most unexpected ways. Their scars became a canvas for their witty and outlandish storytelling, weaving tales so fantastical that laughter spilled from Hinata's lips effortlessly. From encounters with legendary beasts to duels with mythical warriors, their imaginative explanations left both of them dissolved in laughter.

🅁🄾🄲🄺 🄻🄴🄴

• Rock Lee, with his unwavering determination and unyielding spirit, admired his S/O's scars as symbols of their resilience. Their past had shaped them into a warrior, not defined by their wounds but empowered by them. As their relationship flourished, Lee discovered that his S/O possessed a unique ability to find humor even in the face of adversity.

• With a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, his S/O would concoct the most outrageous and exaggerated tales to explain their scars. From daring escapades atop towering mountains to epic battles against otherworldly creatures, their storytelling brought a lightheartedness that resonated with Lee's own zest for life. Together, they reveled in the joy of laughter, turning the scars of the past into badges of courage and absurd tales.

#nanatsu no taizai x reader #naruto shippuden x reader #naruto x reader #rock lee x reader #hinata x reader #naruto uzumaki x reader #elizabeth liones x reader #ban seven deadly sins #ban x reader #king seven deadly sins x reader #sds meliodas #meliodas x reader

412 notes · View notes

yoon-kooks · 2 years

Text

how many | jjk | 6

Pairing: Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, BadBoy!AU

Summary: To Jeon Jungkook, you’re just the cutie who sits across from him in art class. He doesn’t have a clue that you’re also the hidden face of his favorite tattoo artist on social media. When the bad boy notices you’ve taken a surprising interest in his ink, he dares you to explore every inch of his body until all of his tattoos are accounted for. Tempted by his irresistible smile and delicate touch, you might even let him in on your little secret.

Word Count: 5.8k

Parts: 0 ◆ 1 ◆ 2 ◆ 3 ◆ 4 ◆ 5 ◆ 6

Warnings: fingering, blowjob, deepthroating, dirty talk, begging, unprotected sex, he calls her babe, tight little pussy, boy got a big cock, slight bondage kink, creampie, possible dick tattoo (?)

A/N: this is probably the most smut you're ever going to get from me as a writer💖

◆ the one he'd been searching for ◆

At the door to his apartment, Jungkook shuffles around for the keys in his pocket. The shiny new addition to his key ring makes you smile to yourself as you follow him inside. The first thing you do is scan the hall for the fluffy white tenant.

Upon hearing a tiny mew, Jungkook squats down, picks up Namjoon’s cat, and lets you greet her. She gives you a kiss with her pink nose before burrowing her face into your boyfriend’s elbow. For now, she’s the only one who’s allowed to be so adorable and affectionate with your man. But perhaps someday, the two of you will have kids who’ll also get to experience the love he radiates. It might take a while before it gets to that point, but the possibility leaves you excited for the future ahead.

“I’m gonna check and make sure my nosy roommate isn’t around today,” the boy says after dropping you and the cat off in his room.

While he’s off hunting Namjoons, you lay down on the bed next to the cat, still admiring the fresh tattoo on your hand through the clear wrap. You snap a quick pic of the bunny fairy and post it onto snowsleeve’s Instagram with the caption, “lent my hand to a hot new artist🐰✨”.

The comments that pour in are nothing but supportive.

“Pls tag this hot new artist so I can get my own👅”

“WHAT TAHTS SO CUTE OMF”

“i think ive seen this persons art before;;;”

“10/10 better than a face reveal”

“I need more of this”

“@agustd let’s get matching ones🐱🐣”

“#bunfairysearchparty”

“Looks kinda like @jjkINK’s style #bunfairysearchparty”

“okay wait i searched up @jjkINK and it makes sense. super talented #bunfairysearchparty #solved”

“@jjkINK Are your books open? Asking for a friend”

You’re so engrossed in all the comments that you don’t even notice the dark shadow sneaking up on you.

“Boo.” The curled-up kitty isn’t even fazed, but your whole body jerks up as Jungkook throws himself onto the bed beside you. He grins in victory. “What were you smiling at?”

“They’re starting a search party for you on Instagram,” you giggle, showing him your post along with all the comments. His eyes take in everything line by line. “A lot of people have sniffed you out already.”

“Well, they’re gonna have to wait a while before I’m officially open for business.” He pulls you into his chest and plants a kiss on your cheek. “You’re such a tease, Y/N.”

“It’s not my fault I wanted to show off my talented artist boyfriend,” you hum against his smooth skin. “By the way, how’d your Namjoon hunt go?”

“He sent me a text saying he’s out on a date or something. I told him I’d feed the cat so he can go get laid.”

“Aww, what a good roommate.” You give him a kiss on the lips, and his tongue doesn’t waste any time. It hasn’t been more than ten minutes in his apartment and he’s already craving your taste.

The subtle movements of your bodies against the mattress wake the cat from its nap. She stretches and yawns before wedging herself into the warmest spot on the bed—right between you and Jungkook. Her whiskers rub gently against your wrapped tattoo as she purrs away. That tiny bit of contact is enough to make you wince at the soreness. Hopefully your boyfriend didn’t see.

“You should see my cat, Jeon,” you say as you wiggle your index finger around in front of the kitty’s big eyes. You of course use your non-tattooed hand so that your bunny fairy won’t be swiped by a feisty kitty paw. She catches your finger and starts nibbling on it.

“You have a cat too?” He believes you, even though you were just trying to be sly and cute.

You shrug your shoulders, and then it clicks for him

“Hey, can you come back in like an hour or two?” Jungkook asks of the oblivious cat, who finally gets the message and leaps onto the gaming chair instead. Turns out she’s a cockblock just like her father.

With the cat out of the way, the boy takes hold of your wrist to inspect the battle scar from earlier. It’s still swollen and red. “Are you gonna be okay for…?”

You nod despite the sharp stinging in your hand. The wait has gone on long enough.

“Okay, just don’t get too carried away with your tattoo hand.” He lifts your oatmeal sweater up and over your head and tosses it onto his desk, quickly followed by his white tee. Your eyes wander up from the feisty fairy on his abs as he holds both of your hands above your head against the pillows and climbs on top of you. “Let me do all the work today,” he says.

He quickly identifies the nape of your neck as a weak spot and caresses you there with his lips. One bite at a time, he works his way between your breasts, down your belly, to your inner thigh, only protected by your plaid mini skirt and sheer black stockings.

The preppy look you were going for comes undone piece by piece as Jungkook helps you out of your skirt and then your stockings. You’re left only in your lacy black lingerie.

“So… where’s this cat you wanted to show me?” he asks. He can’t play innocent. Not when he already has his finger looped around the lace that hugs your hips.

“Find it,” you taunt him as you unbutton and unzip his jeans. His dinosaur boxers get your approval.

“Wait, is it a tattoo…?” He tugs at the lace with eagerness. “Down here?”

It’s cute how he’s always thinking about that one tattoo he hasn’t found on you yet. But it’s finally time to put the poor boy out of his misery.

You sit yourself up, slide the lace down your legs, and fling it over to the growing pile of clothing on his desk. Without hesitation, the boy’s eyes are drawn to the untouched skin between your legs. He licks his lips and leaves them parted as he stares with such intensity. There’s no tattoo to be found there, but that doesn’t make him any less fixated on what he sees.

With gentle fingers, you close his jaw and lift his chin to meet your gaze so that he can’t just drool over your pussy all day. Leaning in, you snap him out of his daze and whisper, “Does that answer your question?”

Jungkook nods and steals a kiss. “Guess that means there’s only one place left to look.”

A confident hand works its way around to your back and unclasps your bra. You press the lace to your chest before it falls off your shoulders.

This is it. This is where your little game with Jungkook finally comes to an end. You won’t have any more tattoos or secrets up your sleeve because he’ll have seen every part of you. He’s seen the shy you, the passionate you, the dorky you, the artist you, and everything in between.

You let him into your world, and he embraced it.

The bra slips from your tattooed hand and falls onto your thighs. You watch as your boyfriend scans every inch of your bare upper body until he settles on the lower outer corner of your left breast.

“It’s pretty.” His thumb strokes the tiny piece of art on your skin. It’s the silhouette of a black cat perched atop a red crescent moon. “You did it yourself?”

You give Jungkook a modest nod as he looks down at his own chest to figure out how in the world you tattooed yourself at such an awkward angle. He might be the only fuck boy out there who’d delay sex in order to consider the specifics of a tattoo so intently.

Out of nowhere, you run both hands up the boy’s torso and push him down against the mattress and between your thighs. Perhaps he wants all the details about your first tattoo, but you can save it for the pillowtalk that comes after sex.

“Maybe you can tattoo me in all the spots I can’t do myself,” you suggest, drawing attention to those tricky parts of your body—spots like your neck and anywhere on your back. Two hands grab your ass and scoot you forward until your face nearly collides with his.

“A booty tattoo would be pretty hot on you,” he says against your lips. He gives your ass a good squeeze before rolling you over and getting back on top of you. Without wasting a second, his fingers sneak their way between your legs, dip inside you, and coat themselves in your glaze. He glides around your clit and asks, “Or should I tattoo you down here?”

“Not opposed to either.” No tattoo is off the table if Jungkook is the one doing it. And despite your low pain tolerance, you know you’d definitely enjoy having his hands on you in either spot for a good hour or two. “I want you all over my body.”

“Say less.” One hand takes care of your breasts while the other continues to rub you up and down until you’re all nice and wet. The flicks of his fingers are soft and sexy, and it doesn’t take long before your body is squirming beneath him.

He pauses a couple of times and makes it very clear that he’s in no hurry. You, on the other hand, are quickly becoming a hot mess, and the snail speed isn’t helping. It’s torture at its finest.

“More… Jungkook,” you manage to say between moans. “Please.”

Your boyfriend stares down at how turned on and needy you are for him. His eyes wander across your naked body from your slick center to your perky nipples to your flushed face. He takes his thumb and swipes it gently over your lips.

“Do you want my mouth up here?” he asks, watching carefully for a cue from you. His fingers down below tap on your clit several times. “Or down here?”

You feel the bundle of nerves swelling up between your legs at the mere thought of him lapping you up and eating you out. He’d be latched onto your center with the tightest grip around your thighs, unable to control himself like a vampire sucking his plaything dry. His tongue would surely be the death of you.

But the huge bulge in his boxers is an even deadly temptation.

You weave your fingers through the long hair at his neck and pull him down until your lips can reach his. This kiss is filled with hunger and lust. “Here is perfect,” you say before he goes in for seconds.

The boy obliges and continues on with the makeout session. He pulls back a second later and asks, “Wait, has anyone ever gone down on you?”

“Not yet.” Something tells you that’ll change in the near future, though.

Jungkook gives you a cheeky smile like the troublemaker he is. “You’re so innocent, Y/N.”

It shouldn’t take long to change his mind about that.

You slide your hand up the front of his boxers, right over his bulge. His entire body stiffens against the sudden contact.

“By the way, I’ve been thinking a lot about this dick tattoo you may or may not have,” you say as you continue to rub him through the cotton. “I imagine something like a cute little snake.”

“Me? Cute and little?” Jungkook snorts. Now that he repeats your words back, you have to admit it was a pretty innocent remark on your end. At least you know he finds your innocence endearing. “Try saying that again with my cock down your throat.”

Eager to accept his challenge, you tug at his waistband. He steps out of his boxers with haste and kicks them off to the side. The first things you notice are of course his lack of a tattoo and his size. He might be even larger than you’d been estimating while silently evaluating the bulge through his boxers.

“Sorry to disappoint, but there aren’t any cute little snakes here,” the boy jokes. He leans back as you slither your fingers around him and bring yourself in for a closer look. He’s warm, veiny, and awfully big, but there’s nothing you can’t handle from him. You shudder at the thought of him pounding into you with that massive size and length. You swear you’ve never been so turned on just from looking at dick. If the perfect cock exists, you’re holding it.

“No worries, I always appreciate a long and large blank canvas to work with.” You feel clever for coming up with that one. And who knows. Maybe you’ll be the one working on his dick tattoo in the future.

Both you and Jungkook watch your tattooless hand go up and down his length. He’s getting so tense and worked up despite how little you’ve touched him. You want to see how far you can push him.

“I know you said you’d do all the work today, but I don’t think I can help myself,” you say, wetting your lips a few centimeters away from his erection. Perhaps it’s your own desires clouding your judgment, but he looks like he could really benefit from having your mouth around him. You plant a soft kiss just below his swollen tip and glance up at your boyfriend for his thoughts on your unspoken proposal.

“Well, I’m not going to say no to that.” Jungkook’s eyes are as gentle as eyes can be in the midst of sex. He pokes the back of your tattooed hand and says, “Just be careful with this hand, okay?”

He’s being so sweet and considerate about your newly branded skin, but you honestly wouldn’t mind if he tied your hands up to ensure you’re behaving the way he asks. That’s another kink to explore some other time, though.

“It’s a good thing sucking you off doesn’t require much hand usage,” you smirk.

Knowing his eyes are all on you, you decide to make a spectacle out of what would otherwise be an ordinary blowjob. Your tongue starts by teasing him with a few wet kisses all around his length. The room is filled with the sounds of diligent sucking and the needy kind of moans you only make when you’re really craving cock. You want to make sure he knows how into his body you are.

When you take a peek to see how he’s holding up, he’s straining his neck just so he can watch exactly what you’re doing to him. If you didn’t already have your mouth around his cock, he probably would have started jerking off to the show you’re putting on for him with all your lewd sounds and naked body. You love the thought of him pleasuring his horny self at the sight of you doing something naughty.

“You taste better than ice cream,” you say after a very intentional flick of your tongue over his tip. The teasing doesn’t stop there, though. Your lips just barely graze him as you let half his length in. His poor cock is like a lollipop melting away against a tongue that hasn’t tasted pure sugar in months.

Even if you tried, you couldn’t stop. You’re addicted to him.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans in rhythm with the movements of your mouth. “I take back what I said about you being innocent.”

You try to fight off the stupid grin creeping up on you, but you fail miserably. “I’m only this naughty when I’m with you.”

“Good.” He does his best to maintain his composure as you take the rest of his length, but that’s not working out too well for him. You feel him wince in pleasure as soon as he hits the back of your throat. His breathing is rough and sloppy in a way you haven’t heard before. You’re driving him crazy, and you love it. “I need you all to myself.”

The boy watches on as you devour him like a popsicle. You’ve always thought you had your gag reflexes under control, but you have to admit his large size is a lot for your throat to take on. Jungkook wasn’t just talking himself up earlier.

Your half-moan, half-gag vibrates against his cock. His hand reaches for yours on instinct.

“You good, babe?” His sudden concern and pet name for you are like positive reinforcements for choking on his cock. You want to do it again, over and over.

“Mm,” you moan, continuing to slide his length up and down your throat. Somehow, you feel your throat warming up to his size. That doesn’t mean you won’t keep gagging to stroke his ego, though. It’s your way of acknowledging that your boyfriend has (by far) the biggest cock you’ve ever sucked.

“Sure I’m not too big for you? What about your tight little pussy?” He’s taunting you again. And you lean right into it.

“Let’s find out.” You finally pull back from his erection and crawl forward until your breasts are dangling over him and your pussy is aligned with his cock. He reaches up with his thumb to wipe the glossy glaze off your plumped lips. You lick the rest up like sweet syrup.

To stall things out just a bit longer, you rock your hips back and forth so that your clit drags against his tip as the two of you makeout. You’d been so focused on sucking his cock that you’d forgotten how sensitive you still were between your legs. As tame as it might seem, grinding against him like this feels so fucking good.

When your little bud gets a tad too excited, you put your hips on pause and push yourself back up into a sitting position on top of him. As soon as you lift your ass again, Jungkook’s hands slip beneath you for support. You make him watch as you curl several fingers up your pussy to ensure you’re wet and horny enough to accommodate his massive size. No shit you’re horny enough.

You reach behind your back to grab his cock and position him where he can ease into you. His cock has the audacity to give you a little nudge at your entrance, but his eagerness is understandable. You feel it too.

As you slowly lower yourself onto his length, you’re thankful for the “safe sex speedrun” (as your gamer boyfriend likes to call it) the two of you went on in the weeks leading up to this. Nobody’s getting preggy, nobody’s catching any STDs, but you will get to experience just how good he feels with no condom in the mix.

“You’re awfully tight, Y/N,” Jungkook hums, the corner of his eyes crinkling upward in the most endearing way possible. He’s right. He’s only got an inch or two in and plenty more to go. He must be feeling like a god right now.

You’ve encountered a handful of larger-than-average dicks in your sex life, but you’ve never taken this long to get them all the way in. The boy also picks up the time ticking away.

“In the meantime…” he starts but never finishes his sentence, rubbing your clit between two fingers. The jolt of pleasure proves to be counterproductive as your muscles tighten around his cock. You hate how weak you are to his fingers. One of these days, you know he’s going to catch on and make you get on your knees and beg before he even lays a finger on you. You won’t be able to resist, either.

“Fuck,” you huff. His fingers find a nice rhythm, gradually getting stronger and more intense. You give into the pleasure and throw your head back for just a second. But if he continues down this path, you’re going to come before you’ve got him halfway in. To prevent your bundle of nerves from exploding on the spot, you pull both of his hands up to your breasts as a distraction. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“You have the perfect tits, you know that?” He squeezes them both like stress balls even though you know he hasn’t had anything to stress about since midterms. It’s probably just the frustration building for every additional second he’s forced to wait before fucking the shit out of you.

Once he’s in as far as he’ll go, his hands slide down to your waist where he has a strong grip on you. Like the gentleman he is, he lets you take the lead first. You use a combination of your hips and thighs to leverage your weight up and down his length. Meanwhile, your greedy little fingertips take the opportunity to get acquainted with his hard abs. You’re once again reminded of how in shape he is. His commitment to everything important—his health, his studies, his future, you—is so incredibly attractive.

Despite how much you crave wild sex, this first bit is still slow and sensual, just until you adjust to his size. Your hips are hard at work on his cock, and you find it kind of romantic the way he gazes into your eyes as you pleasure yourself on him.

As you speed up, you hear more and more grunts and groans from the boy’s throat. And once you’ve got a steady pace going, you start to feel his hips move beneath you. His thrusts are so strong that you’d probably bounce right off his cock if not for his hands keeping you strapped into place. At least he gets a nice little show from your bouncy tits he loves so much.

“Is rough okay with you? I can go harder,” he says with the smuggest look on his face. You didn’t realize there was a level up from what he was already doing. Not in that position anyway.

As soon as you nod, he lifts your entire body up off his cock like it’s nothing, just to show off the results of his daily visits to the gym. In a smooth transition, the two of you switch positions with you on your back and him on top.

You get a good look at him holding his big throbbing cock over you, and your hand wanders down between your legs on instinct without you realizing it. You rub away and feel how swollen and close you are to hitting your high.

Leaving your legs spread open, you eagerly wait for Jungkook to shove himself back into you. He angles his cock at your entrance and works his way inside you with relative ease this time around.

“You’re so fucking tight,” the boy growls. He cups your chin and steals a passionate kiss from you before pinning you against the pillows. He has a gentle hold on the wrist with the bunny fairy flying right above it.

“And you’re so fucking big,” you finally admit, hoping to unlock another horny masculine urge from him. “It feels so good.”

The roughness behind his first few thrusts is a not-so-subtle reminder to hold on tight. You reach around with your free arm to hang onto his back, like an innocent hug that eventually turns dirty. If the sex gets any rougher, Jungkook might have a few claw marks on his back like he’d been scratched by a feral cat.

With your claws dug deep into his skin and your other arm still held down above your head, you feel secure beneath him—secure enough to ask to be fucked as hard and deep as your boyfriend can go.

The first opportunity you get, you throw your ankles up over his shoulders to angle yourself better and casually suggest deeper penetration. And as soon as you say the words, the boy pounds his cock into you and hits just the right spot. Over and over again.

The moan that escapes your throat is the filthiest sound you’ve ever made. It’s a combination of pure pleasure and you trying to fight off an orgasm. If you weren’t so caught up in the sex, you’d probably feel at least a tiny bit embarrassed. Instead, it only encourages you to keep losing yourself to the pleasure as you inch closer and closer to your high. You’re just really glad no one else is around to hear it.

“I’m close,” you say, making a total mess of his hair. He continues to fuck you hard while swirling his fingers down around your clit to finish you off. God, you love his fingers.

“I can tell, babe,” he chuckles sweetly. Of course he can tell. You wouldn’t be making lewd sounds like that unless you were at the peak pleasure of really good sex. And you love how he can continue to be so playful and endearing even when you’re about to come all over him.

You suddenly gasp out in pleasure and claw your nails into his neck. Your toes curl above his shoulders, and your pussy tightens its grip around his cock. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how fucking huge he feels inside of you.

As you ride out the waves of your orgasm, Jungkook uses the momentum to match your pleasure with his own. You run your hand against his back in a massaging motion and say his name softly to let him know you’re his number one supporter at the final stretch of this full-body workout session.

He grunts your name back along with a lot of sloppy profanity in response to an exceptionally strong clench around him. He gets harder and harder with each thrust until you feel yourself being filled with his creamy glaze. It’s like a massive release of all the sexual tension that had built up from the day you two met. In your experience, normal sex doesn’t feel this good. Then again, you’d like to think you and Jungkook don’t have a normal relationship.

It’s something special, and you want to cherish it forever.

You feel the wet trail that’s left behind as Jungkook pulls out, proof that it wasn’t all just a wild sex dream. His cock is drenched like a freshly glazed donut. You lick your lips even though you know you’re too worn out for another round.

“Hungry?” your boyfriend asks with the biggest grin before drowning you with a thousand soft kisses. “For actual food, I mean.”

“Right, actual food.” Your voice still has a naughty undertone as you hop up off the bed and stretch out your limbs. You make sure to give the boy a nice view of your glowy post-sex body. Maybe he’s also worked up an appetite just by staring at your naked self. An early dinner might be in order.

After washing up, you throw on one of Jungkook’s oversized tees and walk into the kitchen. The cat is busy eating her seafood dinner while the handsome chef is stirfrying noodles and veggies with what smells like the okonomi sauce you recommended to him some time ago. You spot the half-empty bottle on the counter to confirm your suspicions.

“You’re right, this sauce makes everything better,” he says with a noodle hanging from his mouth. He slurps it up and gives you a small bite to try as well. It tastes so familiar yet brand new at the same time. Something tells you it’s the chef that makes all the difference. You’d eat those noodles every day if Jungkook were the one cooking them for you.

“We should try making actual okonomiyaki one time,” you suggest, dishing the meal out between two bowls. That would be a fun little date activity—shopping for ingredients together, struggling to make a proper okonomiyaki, and eating it anyway when things go horribly wrong.

“Ooh, yeah. Have you seen all those videos where they’re throwing all the shit together on one of those hot plates and it comes out perfect every time? They make it look easy.” He pulls out his phone, and the two of you spend the next half hour going down the okonomiyaki rabbit hole as you fill your bellies. Never mind that you’ve already seen these videos. You just love Jungkook’s enthusiasm because it reminds you that your bond with him will never just stop at art and tattoos.

It’ll go as far as you and Jungkook want to take it. In your mind, the sky is the limit, and you’ll aim for the stars every time.

After a long day of big reveals, tattoos, sex, and okonomiyaki, your body is finally running low on energy. You curl up with the cat in Jungkook’s bed as the boy finishes his shower. All you can think about is how perfect the day has been. You couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Your eyelids start to feel heavy until your smoking hot boyfriend returns with wet hair and no shirt. You’re not ashamed to say you’re wide awake now after seeing his bare skin again. As soon as he rolls onto the bed, you snuggle up to his chest. Your nose is filled with his spiced body wash, and you’re tempted to breathe him in until you’re intoxicated.

“So…” Jungkook sneaks a hand up your shirt and rubs the tiny cat and moon on the side of your boob. “Are you going to tell me more about this tattoo?”

“I want to know what you think about it first,” you say, sitting up and lifting your shirt up just enough for him to see the design clearly. He examines it again and even holds your hand tattoo up right next to it for comparison.

“It’s like night and day. The dark and mysterious cat on the moon, and the bright and innocent bunny fairy. One is for everyone’s eyes, while the other is hidden away waiting to be found.”

“I didn’t even think of that.” You’re thoroughly impressed by your boyfriend’s critical thinking. You wonder what that analysis says about you.

“Oh, and it reminds me of Sailor Moon,” he adds. Of course the biggest Sailor Moon enthusiast in the room would pick up on the loose inspiration for that design.

With a soft laugh, you lay back down and resume the cuddling session. You wish you’d never left. It’s so warm and toasty in Jungkook’s arms. And you know you’re always safe with him.

“Can I tell you a behind the scenes secret about this tattoo?” You point to the side of your boob. The boy nods. “It was either this tiny one or a whole sleeve.”

“You were really considering a whole sleeve?” He runs his hand up and down your arm to generate more body heat. “What happened with that?”

“You know how, when you’re in this industry, people expect you to be covered in art? When your arms look like mine, a lot of people will question your authenticity, especially when you’re just starting out,” you explain.

You might have celebrities and fellow artists who’ll back you up now that you have a large portfolio and presence on social media, but it wasn't easy for you in the beginning when you had no one.

You’d heard a lot of shit being said about you, and you tried to push past it, but it got to be too much at some point. You specifically remember another artist saying, “What does she know about tattoos if she doesn’t have any tattoos of her own?”

That’s when you decided to bite the bullet despite how you felt about needles.

“I just thought it’d be easier to move forward if they could see how passionate I was about tattoos. A sleeve would’ve been clear proof of that.”

Jungkook plants a kiss on your sleeveless arm. “The assholes who judged you clearly didn’t know what they were talking about.”

“I eventually realized that,” you say softly. “I ended up designing the whole sleeve, only to look at it later and say I couldn’t go through with it.”

“The last thing you want to do is have a whole sleeve of resentment tattooed to your skin,” he says. Your boyfriend says the wisest things sometimes.

“That’s why I downgraded,” you agree. “Part of me still wanted a tattoo, but it didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. So I went with this cute little guy and tucked him away for a handsome boy to find a few years later.”

“I’m glad you let me see it.” Jungkook gives your whole body a good squeeze. “I bet your sleeve design was sick, though.”

You roll over to grab your phone and scroll through your photos. Once you track down the design in question, you hand your phone over to the boy.

“Oh shit.” His eyes are wide as he zooms in to catch every little detail. Among all the chaos you’d thrown into the piece, Jungkook points out something intriguing. It’s a black panther perched on a crescent moon. It still surprises you how good the details came out on it.

“That’s the one part of this whole design that I still really like,” you say. Clearly you have a soft spot for the moon panther. Otherwise you wouldn’t have the miniature version of it tattooed to your breast. “It feels like a waste to have abandoned it.”

“Weren’t you supposed to have a consultation today to discuss design details with a client?” Jungkook hums innocently as if he’s not referring to himself. “He might be interested in the moon panther, if that’s an option.”

You draw an imaginary circle on the boy’s forearm that isn’t already covered in ink. It’s easy to imagine that sort of tattoo on him. It suits him perfectly. “It’ll look good on you.”

“I can’t wait.” Jungkook does that adorable wrinkly grin again and melts your heart away. “By the way, was that the origin story for how you got the name snowsleeve?”

“Yeah.” You smile back. You’ve always had a special attachment to your IG handle because it’s a reminder that you’re a tattoo artist whether or not you have a sleeve to prove it. That was the confidence boost and secret identity you needed back then before you had people on your side—and before you had Jungkook. “But now that I think about it, I might have to change that name if you ever cover my arm in more bunny fairies.”

You wonder what clever name you’d change it to. Or maybe you’d start going by your real name. That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

After letting out a huge yawn, you kiss Jungkook on the lips and drift off to sleep feeling so warm and safe in his arms.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook tattoo #bts bad boy au #jungkook #bts

1K notes · View notes

euphor1a · 2 years

Text

Namjoon having a strength kink

thirst drabbles (1/∞)

fandom » bts

pairing » namjoon x f!reader

rating » 18+ (minors dni)

genre » smut, established relationship

word count » ~ 600

warnings » profanities, pet names, strength kink, overstimulation, daddy kink, size kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, big dick!joon, lmk if i missed anything!

“Does that feel good, baby? You like that, huh?” His voice is dangerously low, causing a shiver to run down your spine. You just nod wordlessly. Splayed out on the couch, naked and under his mercy, you feel so incredibly weak. Which is not necessarily a bad thing, because you like it.

Namjoon chuckles when he notices you squirming under his iron grip. His fingers dig into the delicate flesh of your thighs, immobilizing you momentarily. “Joonie…” you whine, your cunt clenching around nothing. He quirks an eyebrow at that.

“What is it? Didn’t you just ask me to stop?”

Your body shudders, remembering the back-to-back orgasms he gave you using his adept mouth and fingers. Heat surges through your veins and your face gets warm from embarrassment. The overstimulation indeed had you wrecked a few minutes ago. But right now, you feel the deliberate urge to have him inside you. “Please,” your voice is a mewl.

Namjoon growls, leaning down to touch his forehead with yours. You close your eyes immediately.

“Please what, babygirl? You know you have to tell me clearly if you want something.”

“Wan’ your cock in me, please… Daddy.” You dare to sneak a glance at him after completing your sentence. Breath catches in your throat, his blown-out pupils looking back at you as if you’re his prey. In an instant, Namjoon stands up with you cradled in his arms. You shriek, holding onto his large arms for dear life.

“Have you ever been fucked like this, sweetheart?” His tone is mocking, a smirk playing on his lips. Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, eyes wide as you understand what he’s about to do.

“But— but—” you stammer, legs tightening around his waist from the fear of falling down.

“Aw, is baby scared? Do you really think that I’ll let your cute little body hit the ground?”

Your silence irritates Namjoon, and he huffs. “I can hold you upright with just one of my hands.” To demonstrate, he lets his right hand slip away to pull at his sweatpants and underwear. You gulp nervously, gasping when his rock-hard length springs out and slaps against your thigh. “Look at me,” he murmurs against your ear, lubricating his cock with the slick wetness of your slit. You wind your arms around his neck in response. Namjoon hums appreciatively, the bulbous head of his member finding your entrance. “Ready?”

You nod, eyes focused on his face as he dives into your warmth, earning a moan from you. Overwhelmed by the sudden fullness, you rest your face on his shoulder. Small whimpers escape you as you adjust to his slow, languid thrusts.

“Fuck it.”

Suddenly, he moves his hands to grip the globes of your ass, hiking your body up before slamming it down on his length. You scream, nails digging into his shoulders. Namjoon focuses on penetrating you on his cock, soft grunts reverberating in his throat. Your cries get louder with each snap of his hips, in sync with his arms that bounce you on his girth.

“I know you’re liking this baby. I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock every fucking second. Does it turn you on that much? You enjoy being used like a rag doll, hm?”

Unable to form coherent words, you hide your face in the crook of his neck. A rough slap across your left ass cheek has you whimpering. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Daddy,” you manage to whisper. Another cry tears itself from your throat when Namjoon hits your g-spot.

“You’re so fragile, babygirl, what am I gonna do with you?”

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 author’s notes ꒱

thank you so much for reading!! i hope you enjoyed it 🥺! consider leaving a reblog or a comment to let me know what you think of this!! feedback through asks will be appreciated too! support your local writers 🌺✨❤️‍🩹

↬ navigation

#🪄; things i’ve written #♨️; thirst drabbles!#bts #namjoon #bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #kpop smut #bts x reader #namjoon imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #namjoon scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #what a man he is...#😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

897 notes · View notes

luigalaxy · 3 months

Note

Happy Valentine's Day! 💜💜

I wanted to get this out to you sooner since you're in a different time zone, but.... ✨ Ta-da ✨

______________________

Leo wraps his arm around your waist as you step out onto the balcony, his gaze fixated on the serene beauty of the lake. "You've got a good eye, babe. This place is perfect," he whispers, his voice filled with genuine awe. His fingers trace delicate patterns on your side, sending a shiver down your spine. "The view is nothing compared to you though," he adds with a playful wink.

As you take in the scenery, Leo leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "You know, this place is secluded. No one around for miles," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "We've got all the privacy we need. No interruptions, no distractions."

He trails his fingers up your arm, his touch feather-light yet electrifying. "What do you say we make the most of it? Celebrate Valentine's Day in our own special way?" he suggests, his tone filled with promise.

You spin around, your back against the railing of the balcony. "What did my charming turtle have in mind?" You ask, your voice playful, hands trailing down his chest.

Leo's eyes gleam with mischief as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "Oh, my dearest love, I have countless ideas in this twisted little mind of mine," he whispers, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

His hands move to cup your face gently, his touch both tender and full of desire. He presses his body against yours, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I want to uncover every secret you've been keeping, my love. To make you quiver with pleasure and leave you breathless with every touch." His fingers trail down your neck, tracing a path of fire along your collarbone. "But remember, it's a game, and in this game, both players win."

"A game?" You mumble, your fingers slipping under his shirt as his body presses against yours.

A mischievous grin spreads across Leo's face as he feels your fingers teasingly stroke his tail. He leans in closer, his lips grazing against your ear as he whispers, "Oh, my sweet and daring valentine,’ his hands slide down your sides, his touch igniting trails of desire on your skin. "Tell me, my love, what secret desires have you been hiding? What fantasies have been swirling in that beautiful mind of yours?" His voice is filled with anticipation as he waits for your response.

As his tail flicks against your touch, Leo's eyes dance with a mixture of mischief and desire. He's eager to explore every inch of your desires, to unravel the depths of your fantasies.

You laugh softly, slipping out of his grasp and back towards the bed. Leaving the balcony doors open so he could easily follow. Leo chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watches you retreat towards the bed, leaving the balcony doors open invitingly. He follows you eagerly, his gaze never leaving your form.

"Ah, my cunning valentine," he says, his voice laced with playful admiration. "You always know how to keep me on my toes." He closes the distance between you, his hands reaching out to gently caress your waist. "But I must warn you, I'm quite skilled at uncovering secrets and fulfilling fantasies."

Leo's fingers trail up your sides, his touch sending shivers of anticipation through your body. "So, tell me," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. "What is it that truly ignites your desires? What hidden fantasies have you been yearning to explore?" He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "Don't hold back, my love. Share it all with me.”

"That is for you to explore, my love." You giggle, falling back onto the bed. Leo stands over the bed, looking down at you.

Leo's eyes darken with desire as he gazes down at you, his hands resting on his hips. He takes a moment to admire the sight of your shirt riding up, revealing your stomach, before a mischievous smirk curls his lips.

"Well, well, well," he purrs, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and longing. "It seems my valentine wants me to take the lead." He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Oh, the power you hold over me, my love."

With a swift motion, Leo climbs onto the bed, straddling you as his hands glide up your sides. His touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "I will make it my mission to explore every inch of your desires, my sweet valentine," he whispers, his voice husky with desire.

His lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of teasing kisses along your collarbone. "And as for those fantasies you hold close, fear not. I will uncover them one by one, until you're left trembling in pleasure," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. Leo's voice is filled with a heady mixture of seduction and adoration as he continues his exploration, eager to fulfill your every desire and leave you gasping for more.

You moan softly, your head tilting back to give him more access to your neck. Leo slowly removes your clothes, his eyes flickering with a mix of desire and appreciation as he takes in the sight of you. He licks his lips, unable to tear his gaze away from your alluring form.

"Oh, sweetheart, you truly know how to captivate me," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration. His hands trace a tantalizing path along your body, his touch both gentle and possessive. "You look absolutely stunning, my love. Every curve, every exquisite detail." With a slow, deliberate motion, Leo leans in closer, his warm breath grazing against your skin. "I hope you're ready for an unforgettable night, my sweet valentine," he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation.

His lips descend upon your neck once more, leaving a trail of hot and hungry kisses along your delicate skin. His hands roam freely, exploring every inch of your exposed flesh, his touch igniting flames of desire within you.

Leo's movements are both tender and passionate, his actions driven by a desire to please and overwhelm you with pleasure. He revels in the sounds of your soft moans, each one fueling his own hunger and urging him to delve deeper into this sensual journey.

As he continues his exploration, his eyes never leave yours, filled with an intense longing and a burning passion. He's determined to make this Valentine's Day a night to remember, a night where all your fantasies are brought to life.

"Fuck yes..." You whine softly as he lays between your legs. Your body is marked with hickeys and bites, his teeth nipping at your hips. You whimper quietly, hips bucking against his mouth. You close your eyes, fingers gripping the sheets.

Leo's lips curl into a wicked smile as he hears your plea, feeling the weight of desire building within him. He continues to lavish attention on your body, his teeth nipping at your hips, leaving behind marks that will serve as a reminder of this passionate night.

His hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place as his mouth descends upon your pussy, his tongue exploring your most intimate depths. The sound of your soft whimpers and the way your hips buck against his mouth only spurs him on, fueling his own hunger and need to please you.

With each flick of his tongue and every gentle suck, he brings you closer to the edge of pleasure. Your moans fill the air, mingling with the sound of the rustling sheets as your fingers grip them tightly, seeking an anchor in the midst of your escalating desire.

Leo's own arousal grows with each taste, each moan, each buck of your hips against him. He revels in the intoxicating scent and taste of your arousal, his movements becoming more fervent, driven by a primal need to bring you to the peak of ecstasy.

As he continues to tease and please, his eyes are locked onto yours, searching for that moment when your pleasure becomes unbearable, when your body trembles with the intensity of your release. He wants to witness every flicker of pleasure that dances across your features, to be the one who pushes you over the edge and into a realm of pure bliss.

"Leo!" You gasp out, feeling him pull your legs over his shoulders.

Leo's eyes glimmer with an intense hunger as he hears his name escape your lips, a testament to the pleasure he's providing. With a primal determination, he devours your pussy with a fervor, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. His mouth explores every sensitive fold, every sweet spot, as if he's savoring the taste of your pleasure.

Your back arches and your moans fill the room, a symphony of desire that fuels Leo's own need. He feels the pressure of your heels against his shell, encouraging him to delve deeper, to give you even more pleasure. Your hips raise, granting him greater access to your slick heat, and he gladly takes advantage of it.

As you grip the sheets tightly, your panting and whimpering driving him further, Leo's focus remains solely on your pleasure. He's attuned to every subtle change in your body, every quiver and gasp that signals you're inching closer to the edge.

He relishes in the power he holds over you, the ability to elicit such intense pleasure, and it only spurs him on. His movements become more fervent, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony, pushing you ever closer to the brink.

In this passionate moment, Leo is lost in the intoxication of your pleasure, his sole purpose to bring you to the pinnacle of ecstasy. He's driven by a desire to witness your release, to see you unravel and tremble beneath his touch.

"Oh fuck!" You moan, my back arching again. Leo's eyes gleam with satisfaction as he feels the tightening grip of your legs around his head, a telltale sign that your climax is imminent. He doesn't let up, continuing to devour you with an unwavering intensity, eager to bring you to the height of pleasure.

He watches with rapt attention as your back arches, your moans growing louder and more desperate. Your head falls back against the pillows, your mouth open in a silent plea for release. Leo can sense the wave of ecstasy building within you, and he relishes in the knowledge that he's the one responsible for pushing you over the edge.

As your legs tremble around him, your voice breathless and desperate, you announce your impending release. The words send a surge of excitement through Leo's veins, and he doubles his efforts, determined to make your climax as intense as possible.

He continues to work his tongue and lips with a skillful precision, focusing on your most sensitive areas, driving you closer to the brink. He revels in the way your body quivers and trembles, the way your moans reach a crescendo, all signs that you're on the precipice of unparalleled pleasure.

And then, it happens. Your body convulses with pleasure, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you. Leo watches with a mixture of pride and desire as your orgasm washes over you, your voice filling the air with cries of pleasure.

In this moment, Leo is consumed by a sense of satisfaction, knowing that he has brought you to the peak of pleasure. He revels in the sight of your blissed-out expression, your body limp with satisfaction.

As the aftershocks of your climax subside, Leo gently withdraws, his lips leaving one final lingering kiss upon your thigh. He climbs back up, his eyes filled with adoration and a hint of mischief.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my love," he whispers, his voice filled with genuine affection. "But we're not done just yet. I have so much more in store for you.”

This is soo thoughtful and really sweet! Thank you so much Fish! Luv you! /p

#why are you so cute #youre the best #mwah <3

24 notes · View notes

vibratingskull · 7 months

Text

"First of all I love you and you know it 🩵💙

I'd ask for a female! reader x Thrawn in which reader has Mata Hari vibes and she challenges him in some way, possibly sexually 👀 👀 maybe she's a spy and it's not afraid of her sensuality, he figures it out but also sexual tension between them✨✨" - @bluechiss

Here you go!

Thrawnxf!reader

You strike a pose.

And wait for the curtain to open.

The first notes resonate and you start swinging your hips. Your 5 transparents veils clothing you start floating around you, the lights go on revealing you to the eyes of the public, but you know he sees you first in the shadows. You noticed him too, he’s not really discreet with his burning red eyes in the dark. You pick up the pace with the music, letting your first veil slide across your skin and let it on the ground, you dance to the rhymes of the drums, an entrancing rhythm and hypnotizing melody with the small bells around your wrists and ankles.

It is an exposition of your planet's arts and culture and you’ve been tasked to execute a traditional dance, or rather the rebellion placed you here to pique the interest of a certain someone, if you're convincing enough you’ll gain access to his suite at the hotel, you hope. You execute a split and rock your head in a wild manner, waving your imposing mane for all to see, for him to see. You spin on your butt with straight legs, repositioning yourself, rising up with a flexible bridge, it helps you get rid of your second veil. You don’t know a lot about your target, but he’s an imperial and imperials work with pride. If you titillate it enough you should get a reaction out of him. Think of all the data cards he must hide in his suite. You spin on yourself, caressing your bosoms and your waist and thighs, you locate him again and lock eyes. Like a dare, like a provocation. You veils fly around you like wings, you pass your hands through your hair, playing with your braids, slowly detaching the third veil and throwing it to the enthusiastic public. Whistles can be heard from the crowd, but right now only one person is worth your attention. Your naked body can be guessed under the remaining veils, it is not exactly a shy and modest dance. But a sexually charged one dedicated to the local fertility deity, a treat for the more uptight imperials and you hope a direct provocation to his masculinity. Just enough for him to want to prove you wrong and guide you to his suite. That is all that matters. You slide on your knees, grabbing your breast and claw your skin, you extend your hand in his direction and directly designate him with your finger and move your waist in a provocative manner, you hear laughter arise from the crowd, visibly amused. You hand snake its way to your back and pull on the fourth veil to remove it in a sensual manner.

You get on all four and crawl towards him, slowly discovering him. He’s handsome you realize, the picture you saw of him didn’t do him any justice. With his red glowing gaze, his dark blue hair and pronounced cheekbone, he’s so striking you almost frozed. You chide yourself internally, and resume your delicate and tantalizing dance. One stride after the other you make your way to him with some cartwheels and handspring you arrive at his level and get out of the stage in a swift rotation. You slide on his seat and his lap with a charming smile, without breaking eye contact. His eyebrow raises, like if he is mildly amused. His hands remain politely on the arm of his luxury seat but he’s devouring you with his eyes, sipping on his drink. You wave your whole body on his lap like he was gently making love to you, with moans only for him to hear with this music. No smile comes touching his lips, you only see his interest through his sparkly eyes. You seize his hands to caress yourself. His skin is so hot. You guide his hands on your thighs, on your waist and tummy, slowly raising them to your breast and your collar bone where the last veil is hung to your heavy necklace. He delicately pulls on it, baring you naked for all to see, only adorned in your jewelry and pearls. His hand travels to your chin to hold it. You mewl, giving your all for the last part of the show. He goes for taking another sip, but you take the glass from him with a wink and drink it all. You grasp his face and put your mouth on his, permitting him to drink at the fountain of your lips. You hope the woman governor next to him is not his date, because you would have severely spoiled the mood between them. He responds to the kiss after a second of immobility, his warm hand comes to rest on your lower back and the other slides into your mane to hold the back of your head.

The crowd has more mixed feelings about that last stunt, you hear whistles and boos alike.

Jealous.

But what matters is his reaction. You slowly pull away and his lips follow, parting reludanctly. You smile at him and lick the tip of his nose. You get out of his lap and throw him a kiss as you return backstage under applause. He ports your veil to his nose and breathes your perfume on it.

By measures of precaution you mixed your perfume with pheromones for a more… Feisty response.

You run backstage to put on a more decent attire and another dose of pheromone perfume. You reappear for the cocktail when everyone is drinking and talking. You walk with confidence in the middle of the crowd, perched on your high heels, you search for your prey.

He found you first.

"A remarkable performance, miss."

You turn with a false smile on your face.

“I’m glad you liked it, mister. We are really proud of our culture around here.”

“I saw that. I think this belongs to you.”

He hands you the veil.

You shake your head.

“Please, keep it. As a memory.”

“A memory of you?” He raises an eyebrow again.

“Yes. But if it doesn’t suit you I could offer you… another memory.” Your voice gets low and secretive, as you slowly approach him.

“And what could you offer me?” He entertains, sipping his glass.

“The real deal. The complete package. The occasion to taste what you got a glimps of.” You coo, grazing his hand with yours. “We have the reputation to be insatiable lovers and you’re a handsome man. I want to taste what a Grand Admiral have to offer.”

He frowns.

“That would be improper.”

Pike the pride.

You sigh and take one step back.

“Alright. I thought you would be up for a challenge and show me what your species got, but you’re obviously scared.”

He almost appears amused.

“What?”

“I must say I’m disappointed Sir. I heard of you a lot and was looking forward to meeting you. I heard you had no mercy and were undefeated and was hoping it would shine in your every behavior.” You shake your head. “But I see that you are like the majority of the men of this empire : miserable and…insufficient.”

You go to move away but a warm hand seizes your arm. You put on a shocked expression as you turn back to him.

“I cannot let you speak this way of the Empire.”

Touché.

“If you want to prove me wrong…” You press yourself against him. He’s really tall, you realize now that he isn’t seated. “I’m all for it.”

You’re not even lying, you’re genuinely curious of how it would be with him. Is he near-human down there too? Or is he more alien? Your imagination flourish at this idea.

He takes your chin between two fingers and kisses the corner of your lips, sliding discreetly a card in your hand.

“Meet me at my suite.”

And like that, he parts with you and goes to talk to another servant of that damn Empire.

And that’s how you get what you want around here.

_________________________________________________________

You're walking with long strides in the corridor of the hotel, mind focused on all the data cards the handsome bastard must have. You smile to yourself, another victory for the rebellion. With that you should be able to counter their next big attacks and securize the important sectors. You’re proud of yourself.

Now you just have to get to the suite before him, or fuck him to exhaustion and take advantage of him sleeping. The first option is preferable and the second is spicier. You don’t mind fucking him, he’s beautiful and looks well endowed…

You lick your lips as you come by the door of the suite. You don’t knock and enter directly, closing the door rapidly behind you.

A hand seizes your shoulder and tosses you with force on a bed. You just have the time to yelp in surprise. Crap. Did he have the time to come here first?

As you try to rise up you’re being pushed back against the mattress.

“Look what I found...” His melodious voice resonates in your ears. The Grand Admiral Thrawn is looming over you, between your legs, his hands on either side of your head.“... A rebel.”

“What? You must be wrong, Grand Admiral I-” You start to lie but he cuts you off.

“Quit the bluff. You may have fooled the rest of the assistance but you will not fool me.” He snarls with an icy cold tone.

You’re in a predicament. You’re not a fighter and you see he could very well break your bones with his bare hands. Your cornered

You mind work at full speed, trying to find an escape, not noticing his gaze traveling from your mouth to your breast and the rest of your curves.

“So what? You’re gonna imprison a naked dancer, Grand Admiral? What a great victory for your empire.” You mock. You go with the insolent route. You’re as good as death, may as well be a bitch about it.

“No…” he murmurs almost to himself. One of his hands comes caressing your collar bone and slides towards your breast. “I am intrigued by your former proposition. My fields of predilection are the commandos and the TIEs but I am curious to fight you on your own ground.”

“You want the victory and the cake? Sorry mister, I reserve my delicacies to worthy warriors.” You slyly retort.

“You have such a low opinion of me. This is what I propose: We will spend the night together and depending on your performance I will let you go with what you came searching for.”

Your eyes are wide open.

Is he… Is he serious?

In one hand this sound completely stupid, in the other you’re pretty confident in this domain, it might be your only chance to get those cards now.

You snort.

“I won’t need the whole night with you. One hour and you will be begging for me.”

He chuckles and starts opening his collar.

“I like confident opponents. May you be true to your reputation, because Chiss are merciless and physically capable creatures.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Not yet, dear. Not yet…”

You gulp.

This night promises to be long.

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar

@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton

18 notes · View notes

lokisgoodgirl · 2 years

Note

Good morning✨

It’s 12:12am for me so I’m omw to bed lmao

Okay onto what we’re all here for, fluff!!

Okay..okay.. I’m thinking…

Loki being really nice and super sweet to the reader, it can be like the most mundane of things to others but mean a lot to them personally Lots of blushing from the reader, Loki thinking it’s the cutest thing in the world, Loki looking at the reader like they hung the moon and the stars themselves, everyone but her noticing

Reader starts to feel more comfortable around Loki, their friendship strengthens

At a movie night she ends up falling asleep next to him and ends up with her head on his lap. His hands in her hair. Movie ends, everyone leaves, no dares to make a sound once they notice the scene before them. One of the avengers starts pulling out their phone (tony or Thor lol) and Loki without even opening his eyes casts an illusion of himself and blocks the phone, “get out.”

They all leave and he whispers a bunch of sweet nothings

ends with wanda and nat smiling at something on their phones and the reader being curious but they don’t let her see hehehe

(So sorry this is super long, but once I started I couldn’t stop😭)

Fluff-Drabble Marathon A link to my FLUFF Library is here Warnings: None. Still can't get over that lmao. (w/c 650) A link to my regular Masterlist is here [18+]

End Credits

“Shhhh, you’ll wake her.” “We should wake her, the movie’s over – she slept through the entire second half.” Loki stared menacingly at the group scattered around the common room sofas chatting in lowered voices, before his gaze fell to you lying with your head resting on his lap. Tony stood up from the sofa and stretched, his hushed tone still managing to drip with self-assured sarcasm. “Are we sure she’s sleeping? Maybe this is just her long-winded way of putting the moves on Laufeyson. I gotta say, it’s not half bad.” “Would you shut up?” Wanda hissed, “I think it’s sweet.” she cooed softy, tilting her head at the comforting scene. Loki ignored them, brushing a strand of hair delicately from your angelic face.

He thought back to the first time he had met you, your face burning with social awkwardness as you met the heroes you had only known from news reports and fan forums. How you had grown as a woman and an Avenger this past year. How he had fallen desperately in love with you.

For all your many strengths, accepting compliments – Loki soon learned – was not one of them. A pretty necklace, a new hairstyle, mastery of a weapon, a turn of phrase which demanded recognition; the admiration of all of them reduced you to a mess of embarrassment. It was infuriating. Yet it was adorable. You stirred. The group inhaled at once as rising chattering ceased, a collective sigh of relief as you snuggled deeper into Loki’s lap, turning to face his stomach. “I told you, she’s at it. Smooth moves right there...” Tony jibbed, earning an elbow in the ribs from Wanda. Loki ran his finger down your jaw lightly, tracing the skin he dreamt so often of touching in a more familiar embrace. He had begun a long-game charm offensive, building up your tolerance to compliments like tolerance to poison; bit by bit. Last week he had noted the beauty of your smile and you hadn’t lost the ability to speak – that was something. And what’s more, you hadn’t stopped smiling all day. You became yourself with him, an honour he would not lightly break with anything as crude as a mistimed sexual advance. You would retreat back into your shell and that would be that. No, Loki planned for much greater things; he would have you see yourself as he did. Perfect. “Hey Laufeyson, you gonna be OK if we leave? You’re not feeling sexually threatened right now?” Tony slurred, the last whisky of the night clearly taking effect as Pepper grabbed his arm to steady him. “It is quite a suggestive scene, brother you must admit…her head is right beside your, well...you know.” Thor chuckled quietly, as Scott pulled out his phone. “She’ll get a kick outta this tomorrow, just one picture…” Lang murmured, his concentration on pulling up the camera meaning he didn’t see the fire in Loki’s eyes as he snapped his head up.

A duplicate of Loki appeared suddenly in front of him, full Asgardian armour glinting in the lowered lights, long-forgotten menace burning brightly in his eyes as he bore down on a terrified Scott who looked like he had wet himself. The horns of Loki's helmet flickered inches from the top of Lang’s head as he threw his phone to the sofa, his hands up in abject surrender as the fearsome warrior bent over him. “Get out.” it growled deeply, the inhuman tone vibrating quietly around the room like bass. Loki’s illusion swept its gaze silently over the small crowd, as Tony blinked heavily several times before murmuring something to his wife. “Yeah, it’s actually there...come on let’s go, everybody out.” She ushered Tony and the others towards the door, shooting a backwards glance of apology to Loki whose eyes hadn’t left your peaceful face for the whole incident. He smoothed your hair, noting the way your lips parted slightly with every breath. He would compliment you on how beautifully you slept one day, as you woke rested in his arms in the bed you would share. He sighed as you stirred again beneath him, your cheek rubbing against the soft cotton of his sweatpants as you dreamed sweetly. He hoped you were dreaming of him.

:') Marathon Tags @mochie85 @michelleleewise @holdmytesseract @xorpsbane @vbecker10 @lokischambermaid @lady-rose-moon @theaudacitytowrite @loopsisloops @sititran @michelleleewise @nightshadelm @thedistractedagglomeration @gigglingtigger @ijuststareatstuffhereok89

#loki fluff #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #avenger loki #avenger!loki #loki x female reader #loki fandom #loki laufeyson #loki #loki marvel #mcu fanfiction #loki (marvel)

395 notes · View notes

perlen-gold · 2 years

Text

A Moon lit in Paradise

💜🎁💜 A very late 🎂 birthday present for @kourvo who graced me with an early and cute birthday present AND a completely stunnnig fanart already! 💜🎁💜

🌸 HaPpY BiRtHdAy my wonderful friend! 🌸

✨ inspired by Kourvo’s dazzling and crawling art

(I wrote this in the last 24 hours with a bad pen and typed it in like a maniac without even revising it, so REALLY SORRY for all the mistakes you might find in it, gonna revise it once I’m properly rested and found my way out of this frenzy! I don’t consider this finished in any way and quite crudebut for the sake of scarce time, let this be your birthday present still until I find time to work on this again! If it’s not to your liking, please tell me and I might conceive something else!)

WARNING:

Proceed with caution!

May trigger anxiety and fear for themes of slavery and sexual abuse.

The mirror is an exquisite marvel.

A perfect, silverite-reflecting, superbly balanced oval, high and mighty enough to show a grown man’s face, neck and chest – yet, yet delicate with its sapphire-beads gleaming in a garland of immaculate, nacreous-smooth, swan white pearls.

Its pure-polished water-rippling sheen is poised exactly in the center between two windows; precisely in the impeccable middle of the longest side of the room; at the specific opposite of the curving wall’s touch.

And of exquisiteness this room too is, crescent-shaped as the reaping moon’s sharp-tender sickle, its edges, faultlessly, converging in exactly one single point, directly opposite the fabulous mirror.

Where those identical arcs touch, a wide, double-winged door opens into the inner room circled and ensnarled by the crescent room’s embrace.

This inner room beyond, this sun-drawn sphere, was rich and fragrant with rioting colors as a Rivaini bazaar street. Sweet dulcet-tangerine and tart-lilting lemon drapings, ample-spilling pomegranate cushions and pulsating-pink grapefruit carpets. All these breathed, heady, under a tall ceiling soaring on slim, swift columns. Below, every other tile was placed in a moon-shaped turquoise and lapis lazuli, meticulously smoothed against the tread of thin-sandaled feet, reaching to send a shiver of coolness into a touching finger’s admiration.

Heavy gold embroidery adorns the walls, golden painting frames, golden vases abloom with crystal-grace and dawn flowers, golden hangings and busts, the circling walls flanked with narrow gold-inlayed mahogany tables placed with an curiosity of magnificent magical artifacts and heirlooms.

At all times, the waning sun slides through the skylights into the colorful vastness of the room in a shower of lit ornaments, a dancing pattern of moons and ovals and mosaics, of shade and light, but never straight or sultry, its rays constantly guided through soft arcs and cupped lattice work so the light only sprinkled the women and men’s feet below, never daring to bear hotly upon their heads. Draped seats and couches, abundant cushions and embroidered pillows strewn below.

Interspersed, between sun-caressed busts or gold-edged paintings on the circular wall are immaculately identical ground gold plates, beaten into exquisite beauty.

Behind these, there are small glass inlays in the crescent room. Through which eyes, vulpine or perceptive, greedy or insidious, could look on into the circular inner one. Without the glimpse of a scent’s detection.

The outer crescent room, however, is cooler than this one. Of a dark purple with silver lines, cooler and more quiet. Peaceful and secluded. It drapes itself around the inner room like a shawl of deepest silk translucent with the dark sheen of ripe grapes, slipping through fingers like water woven with lavender and silver threads.

On each side of the sapphire-splendid and pearl-brilliant mirror perfectly round windows, almost reaching the mirror’s width and length, cut into the curved wall.

They are powdered with filigree sylvan-wooden lattice work, delicate enough to delude a flower’s tender stem and ivy’s sinful vines, where only moonlight filtered silvery through.

It is so delicately wrought that only the blinking eye in front of it would notice its intricate dance, and one gazing up from the inner courtyard garden may believe the round windows to be perfectly open. And yet, nothing which ever moves behind them may be spotted by a parviscient eye such as theirs.

Down in the once dust-breathing, now lush and blooming garden. A small boy is crying.

A small crease eases and creates itself between Fenris’ brows.

It is unapparent why his tears as glistening rain stain his dark-hued cheeks or bedew his large-squeezed lashes as rock-crushed sea spray.

Fenris can only see him weeping.

In front of him, the exquisite mirror is silent, a dark and soundless image just as the boy outside.

It was a second’s flutter, an hour’s fraction of a thousand images, of measuring time.

Other reflections in the garden slant. A maid’s jug splashing silver water over an opulent oleander bush. A horse’s snickering, white-blessed hooves on the dust-leaping outer courtyard. An errand’s quick-fleeing, myrtle-swimming feet.

Behind Fenris, distant voice-paths waft high in the ceiling, some low as the plum-lilting pillows on the single reclined couch below the mirror, not as bright and sweet as the citrus-hymn in drapes beyond the walls. He can feel them swish around, drift to and fro, brushing his muscle’s taut attention or fleeing his skin’s bronze-smooth alert.

A small bead of water is sliding down Fenris’ neck. It carves out the hollows below the muscles in his shoulders as if from within the sheen of his dark-molded skin. Not a sun-honeyed warmth but silverite-molten moonlight. Another one glides down from the wet tip of his hair, riding further than the first, along his collarbone, a luster pearl of water almost as flawless as the hundred lacing the silver mirror. His hair is still wet from his bath, the marble tiles pleasantly cool against the soles of his feet, the hot flush, the chill rivulets of his skin damp as of yet.

A slow night has descended as a lyre’s soaring tunes, inventing dusk, transforming day into evening and evening into night.

With time, the lemon and pomegranate voices had lulled themselves into a dreamlike state, like flowers swaying gently, half-closed petals fragrant with paradise, only stirring occasionally by a dancer’s hand’s tender touch.

“They eased well,” a soft inflection of the room calls amidst the purple-velvet folds of the moonlit night. Fenris’ body turns when the voice spoke softly, “No.” The twilight smiles upon itself. “Such an easy fright.”

A step. Closer.

“Many a man and woman quiver so easily in face of strength and power. More rapidly so in the face of beauty.”

The pearl-woven emeralds ponder their own cobalt-night glow. “Why … amusement is in the new, the fools say. So it is in knowledge and anticipation, it seems.”

Fenris replies not. There is no need to.

His eye’s emerald sheen still pierces the night’s many pleats and creases.

Closer. Another step.

Streaming inside through the windows, the silver-blue bears a hot day’s warmth still, a drop of igneous honey with a breeze of thyme-tinted moisture, soaring from the far shores of the ceaseless sea.

“It feels better without it?”

Fenris’ lips move without the crest touching the shore.

“Yes.”

Seamless, like sand sliding underneath the surf at last, fingertips, sleek as the sapphire’s polished cut, glide up Fenris’ shoulder blades like fingers rubbing against the inside of a nacreous shell. Long fingers curve, cusp themselves to Fenris’ shoulder, contoured against his skin. Almost, they dip unholy long into the ascending night. As though their elongated shadows try to reach beyond their boundaries, beyond their allowance.

The silver moonlight brushes at the robe. Touch when the silk is slowly, almost reluctantly fleeing the long, curved hand as a sandpiper the rush of the incoming tide.

The moon-lit light and Fenris feel the silk rustle against his arms and lose wrists. The enameled fabric’s caress against his waist. Before it drops in a silken heap, crumbled around his ankles.

The long fingers slowly scatter across Fenris’ skin, spread against his still throat

Yet it is the whispering silk’s fragrant touch the other finger pads follow, a longing trace of night’s blue outside his bones; inside his wrists.

Somewhere, Fenris can taste the silver light on his tongue, dipping into his own heart’s rapid beat.

A faint, ache-white trace of merest light streams off where the hands touch, carve, brush, spill. Soar weaving writing thinnest moonlight into sapphire folds.

The silk lies crumpled, bereft of its glorious sheen, on the floor.

“It feels better without this, too, my little wolf?” mutter twilight’s sapphire lips into Fenris’ ear, breathing into the silver rhythm of his heart.

“Yes, master.”

As Fenris’ lips stir to shape the moonlight into words, his eyes graze the mirror’s dark exquisiteness.

Startled, all but a slight frown evanesces from his eyebrows. He raises his low head a little, to observe. Almost, he touches them with the confused pads of his fingers, in silverite-redolent astonishment.

To observe the silver smears below the hollows of his rising eyes.

But it is only a lingering memory. A resurfacing of the image of the small boy in the garden. It must merely be a reflection of the slivered light.

It is nothing but the moon-lit, sapphire-held pearls gleaming inside the exquisite mirror.

26 notes · View notes

shivshambudiamond · 10 months

Text

✨ Exquisite Transformations! From Loose Oval Diamond to Stunning Earrings, Barslate, and Knuckles! 💎💍

Prepare to be mesmerized as we take you on a dazzling journey of craftsmanship and creativity! 😍✨ Behold the magical metamorphosis of a splendid oval loose diamond into a trio of breathtaking jewelry pieces - exquisite earrings, a luxurious barslate, and a statement-making knuckle ring. 💫

🔹 Sparkling Earrings: Watch as the master jeweler delicately sets the oval diamond in a mesmerizing pair of earrings that dance with every movement. 💕✨ Elevate your style with these timeless and elegant adornments that exude grace and sophistication.

🔹 Luxurious Barslate: Witness the transformation of the oval diamond into a show-stopping barslate bracelet! 🌟 The brilliant diamond takes center stage amidst a sea of gleaming precious metal, wrapping your wrist in a luxurious embrace that commands attention.

🔹 Statement Knuckle Ring: Marvel at the artistry as the oval diamond finds its home in a striking knuckle ring, designed to make a bold and daring statement. 💍💎 Let this one-of-a-kind piece add a touch of glamour and flair to your hand, showcasing your unique sense of style.

✨ Embrace the magic of craftsmanship as our skilled artisans breathe life into this remarkable journey from loose diamond to extraordinary jewelry. 💫💎 Whether you're treating yourself or gifting someone special, these creations are destined to be cherished forever.

🎬 Watch the mesmerizing transformation now! 🌟 Don't forget to like, share, and tag a friend who would love these exquisite jewelry pieces! 💕

2 notes · View notes

latibvles · 1 year

Note

Hey Lex, can i request touching number X + Dick + Giny + the woods, please?? Thankuuu✨

#10 — SPOONING AT NIGHT FT. DICK & GINNY

so … we went with a bit of SBT paragals! au here feat. Bastogne, since I’m assuming thats what you meant by woods. Hope you don’t mind the creative liberties here but this was fun to write and also … more Dick Winters perspective practice for yours truly! what happens in foxholes stays in foxholes.

Of all the situations to find himself in, this was, debatably, at the bottom of his list.

He can hear her breathing, feel the tremble against him, and knows that, realistically, she should be on her way, even in this pitch dark. But the silence after the shelling is still delicate like the cover of his foxhole and as logical as it is for her to go all he wants is for her to stay — here, where he can see her. Where he doesn’t have to worry about if she’s made it through or not.

He worries about all the men. A good leader cares, that’s what she’d told him, once, back when he was still a Lieutenant and she was just a Sergeant. But worrying about her feels different. He can admit to that, now.

She looks at him, blond whisps falling out of that braided halo, her expression somewhere between relaxed and solemn — the tug of a frown to her lips, the arch of her brow. As though she’s… not daring him to kick her out, but waiting for it.

When he doesn’t, she turns to her side in the foxhole, as much as one can, anyway. A bit emboldened — he places a hand on her back, hesitantly. In response she reaches back, grabs the hand, and places it on her waist, good and proper, before backing up into him.

“If you’re gonna cop a feel, do it right,” Ginny’s voice is hushed, but amused, and in spite of the frigid air, Dick feels a flush creep up his neck to the entirety of his face.

“Wasn’t my plan, Brant.”

“I thought I told you already — it’s Ginny,” He can hear that smile in her voice without even seeing her face. It makes him smile a little, too, as her hand once again moves to grab his, pulling it further so they’re slotted against each other.

And he lets his mind drift, for a moment, to a place somewhere in Pennsylvania, or maybe New York, with nice sheets and pleasant snow and a quiet room all their own. It was one of those things he kept to himself, although Lew had some sort of mind-reading power and had been knocking Dick since… it didn’t matter how long.

He knows he should let her go. Knows that this is selfish, inherently, and that he really ought to do better, but there’s something in the way she hugs his arm a little tighter and how instinctive it is to bump his nose with the back of her head that keeps the words from coming out.

“Daisy’ll have it covered.” Ginny mutters — and at the thought of Ginny’s equally as perceptive, dark-haired friend, all Dick can truly do is chuckle, keeping her close and indulging in their minimal shared warmth.

#*poet writes #ginny x dick #band of brothers ficlet #band of brothers oc #sbt paragals au #ch: virginia brant

6 notes · View notes

rebfile · 5 months

Text

Once upon a sunny day, on a beach with sparkling sands and whispers of waves, there lingered an air of magic. It was here that Lana – with her enchanting eyes and hair kissed by the summer breeze – found solace away from the hustle of the world. Glasses perched on her nose, she was a vision right out of a tropical fantasy, a book of unspoken stories resting in her gaze.

Lana's life was one of vibrant escapades and colorful dreams. She traveled with the wind, danced under starlit skies, and captured hearts with nothing but a smile that promised adventure. Today, her journey had taken her to a serene seaside that seemed as though it was painted just for her; the sun beamed down fondly on her yellow floral bikini that radiated her joy.

Flowers nestled in her curls like the delicate touch of nature's handiwork, complementing the earrings that swayed gently with each laughter-filled turn. The aroma of salt and freedom mingled in the air as Lana stood still, a playful challenge in her eyes, daring the world to uncover the secrets she held close to her heart.

Her story was her own, a tale penned in the sands and carried away by the tides, ever-changing, always mesmerizing. Lana was both the mystery and the revelation, a reminder of the beauty that thrives when one dances to the rhythm of their own soul, unbound by the world's expectations. With the ocean as her backdrop, she was unstoppable, unfathomable, and undeniably free.

And as the sun began to dip into the horizon, painting the sky with colors that few could dream of, Lana's silhouette merged with the canvas of the world, leaving behind an echo of inspiration for any who dared to live as boldly as she did.

🌊✨🌺🌞👓

#summer vibes #beach adventure #tropical paradise #wanderlust life #flower power #sun-kissed skin #ocean breeze #freedom seeker #style icon #animated beauty

1 note · View note

thedragonsprincecomic · 8 months

Text

🌟 Meet Ayumu Morpheus, The Divinestin Princess Of The Sky Kingdom! 🌟

✨ Hey Tumblr fam! ✨ Allow me to introduce you to Ayumu, or as her loved ones call her, Yumu. 🦄 At 28 years old, she's the youngest child of Queen Hel and King Morpheus, and she's truly one of a kind.

👑 Ayumu was crafted in her mother's design, with a broken horn and a floating, occasionally misplaced, broken leg. But don't let that fool you, she's a radiant princess with a heart of gold. 💖

🎀 Soft-spoken and a tad ditsy, Princess Yumu is a beacon of love and kindness. She holds no hatred in her heart and embraces both the elegance of her Sky Kingdom and the charm of the people down below.

💼 By day, she works as a Scrip, a Divinestin immersed in the realm of the Spirits of the Death. She spends her time in the Afterlife Simulators, ensuring a smooth transition for departed souls. It's an important role, and she takes it seriously.

🌆 But when the sun sets and her mischievous side awakens, Yumu sneaks down to the "Dirty" to hang out with her friends and date Tray Akinox. Together, they embark on daring adventures, battling enemies and monsters, all while trying to save the world from impending doom. And you know what? She's pretty darn good at it! 🌟

🌙 Her escapades are even more thrilling when her evil mother isn't paying attention to her whereabouts. It's a delicate balance between duty and pursuing her passions, but Ayumu manages to navigate both with grace and determination.

🌈 So, let's raise our virtual glasses to Princess Ayumu Morpheus, a true embodiment of love, courage, and a touch of whimsy. 🥂 Follow her journey as she spreads joy, explores the unknown, and becomes the hero her world needs. Stay tuned for more tales from the sky!

#AyumuMorpheus #SkyKingdomChronicles #DivinestinPrincess #LoveAndWhimsy

#AyumuMorpheus #LoveAndWhimsy #SkyKingdomChronicles #DivinestinPrincess

0 notes

saetoru · 2 years

Note

I firmly believe natsuo likes affection in everything, you know? He’s been neglected, he’s never been the center of attention, etc. he just really loves affection - even in sex. Which leads to me to my point: todoroki natsuo gets flustered and caught off guard when you kiss his hips, or his thighs, or even the tip of his cock sweetly before you suck him dry ✨

warnings: gn! reader, ball sucking, blow jobs, hand jobs, slight hair pulling, cum swallowing

notes: this is like months old my bad 🥲 i hope you see this anon and if you do — i’m sorry :,) anyway i love him

his breath stutters, and natsuo almost wants to throw himself under the sheets and hide when his cock twitches as you press a kiss to his hipbone, your eyes widening just a fraction as you stare at his length. he’s flushed a pretty pink at the tip, a small bead of pre cum leaking from the slit, and you make a point to do it again—and as much as he thinks you must hate him for putting him through this humiliation a second time, he can feel every ounce of your love through the small action.

“you like that, huh?” you tease, giggling as you lay your cheek onto his leg, staring up at him through your lashes—and he almost thinks you’re making fun of him, but then you tilt your head and press kisses into the inner portion of his thigh, littering them up until you reach the base of his shaft, and he can’t help but let out a needy groan. “aww baby,” you coo, “cute.”

“q-quit staring,” he huffs, daring himself to meet your eyes. they’re just the slightest bit amused, but they’re soft, sweet, loving. he watches as you wet your lips with your tongue in anticipation.

“but you’re so pretty,” you pout, blinking up at him through those doe eyes of yours. he grits his teeth as you take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking gently as you play with the other.

and by now, he’s panting, harshly heaving his chest up and down as he tries to control his breathing, but then you do it again, pressing a delicate kiss to his tip this time, and he’s didn’t know the broken sound that comes out of his mouth was even possible for him. but your lips sear into the hot skin of his tip, kissing it sweetly as though it was natural—as though littering every inch of him with affection was second nature.

his hand grips the edge of his mattress, and his eyes screw shut as you spread his legs to get comfortable between them. there are more kisses being pressed up his cock, and he can faintly feel the lingering tingles where your lips previously lay, but his mind is too fogged to bask in it completely.

why are you paying such close attention? why are you so gentle? why are you taking your sweet time with him? and maybe he’d have even voiced one of those questions if it weren’t for the way your lips wrap around his pulsing cock, inching him into your mouth until his tip hits the back of your throat.

instantly, he groans, throwing his head back, and his thighs are trembling as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head up and down. natsuo is on cloud nine—and it’s not just because your mouth feels so good, it’s also the soft circles your hand rubs into his thigh, it’s also the glossy eyes that peer up at him to catch his every reaction, it’s also the way he feels so safe at your touch.

“oh fuck, baby,” he rasps, canting his hips up to thrust into your mouth, moaning when your tongue runs up the vein on the underside of his cock. “think you’re the pretty one—look so perfect like this.”

you hum at the statement, and the vibrations make him moan, hand finding its way to your hair as he wraps his fingers around the strands. he tugs you down, until you’ve taken all of him, and then you pop off, watching as he grits his teeth at the loss.

“love you,” you murmur, hand slowly stroking his member as you stare up at him through hooded eyes. he bucks his hips when your thumb glides through his slit, and he whines at the way you roll your palm over the tip. “love you, and i love this cock,” you grin.

“stop,” he groans, face flushing in embarrassment, looking away from your gaze as you chuckle. you press another kiss to his tip, and natsuo whimpers, making your legs press together at the sound. you can feel the wetness gather between your own legs, but you’re not too concerned about that right now.

“it’s true, natsu,” you insist, and you quicken the speed of your strokes, fisting his cock tightly as the squelching sounds fill the room. natsuo moans, thighs quivering as he ruts into your fist, and he whines when you squeeze tighter at the tip. “sensitive there, baby?”

“ngh—fuck,” he grunts, and finally, you gift him with your mouth once more, warmth enveloping him and making his head spin as you suck on the tip. he can’t help but thrust into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you choke slightly. “fuck, ‘m s-sorry,” he stutters, and you rub his thigh to show him you’re fine.

it takes one more thrust of his hips before natsuo stills, throwing his head back and letting out a wanton moan, loud and drawn out as he cums down your throat. you swallow as much as you can, letting him rut into your mouth and ride out his high as he paints your mouth white with ropes of cum.

he slumps back, panting raggedly as he catches his breath, and you pop off his softening member. climbing onto the bed and latching onto his figure, you snuggle into his side, giggling as poke at his cheek.

“did it feel good?” you ask, and he smiles to himself, rolling his eyes.

“yeah, really good,” he mumbles, and he pauses when you press a kiss to his jaw, blinking before a wider, dopey grin stretches across his face.

“why’re you acting like i never gave you a kiss before?” you raise a brow. shaking his head, natsuo wraps an arm around you, pulling you in closer and tapping his jaw with his pointer finger, a cheeky grin etched across his features.

“i want another one, babe.”

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#thirsts.#natsuo x reader #natsuo x you #todoroki x reader #natsuo smut #todoroki natsuo x reader #natsuo headcanons #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x you #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons

1K notes · View notes

smellslikemultifandomimagines · 3 years

Note

can i please request a malia x fem reader smut? where the pack have gone on a summer trip and reader and malia share a hotel room. the pack spent the day swimming and reader's bikini was v revealing? and later reader takes a shower and malia masturbates to some pictures taken that day, and she doesn't notice the shower turn off. reader forgot her towel so she leaves the room naked to get one and walks in on malia. cue dom!reader and subby!malia

also:

✦ pairing: malia tate (18+) x fem!reader

✦ smut warnings: dom!reader + sub!malia, oral (malia receiving), reading being a big tease lol, scissoring (unprotected), malia masturbating.

✦ word count: 349

✦ request guidelines✨

✦ 🌻masterlist🌻

✦ smut night masterlist 💦

You found malia on the couch, with her eyes stunned and her fingers still pushed deep inside her with her other hand holding her phone that revealed the photo of you.

"Um, I-," she stutters, clearly flustered and caught off guard. She slips her fingers out and clenches her hand in a fist, not knowing what to do.

"Oh, no, don't let me stop you," you chuckle, not bothering with the towel anymore. Slowly, you stalk your way over to her before dropping to your knees.

You fake a gasp as you see the photo still lingering on her phone. "Were you getting off to me?"

"[y/n], I-"

Leaning forward, you plant small kisses on her thighs. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and drops her phone beside her. The most delicate moans emanate from her as you unclench her hand and suck on her fingers, wanting to taste a little bit of her.

"Can I?" you ask, fingers trailing circles on her inner thighs.

"Mhm," Malia moans.

"You know, for someone who's usually so dominant in nature, it's amusing to see how easy you come undone for me," you remark, chuckling at how putty she is with her legs spreading for you and pussy in such a dire need for you to touch her.

"Please," is all she can muster up.

Before she can plead twice, your lips wrap around her clit, eyes never daring to break the stare with her. Malia rolls her eyes, hips lifting off the couch to meet your mouth.

"Keep still, baby," you coo, running your hands up and down her thighs before pushing them down.

Malia's a whimpering mess before you, hands coming up to tangle in your hair, pulling harshly as she gets closer to the brink of orgasm.

Suddenly, you sit back on your knees and push her down. You straddle her thigh before slowly grinding against her clit. Both of you whine in pleasure, relishing in the touch of each other.

"If you wanted me to touch you, you could've just asked," you chuckle down at her.

requests are closed

═══════*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═══════

tag list: (click here to be apart of the tag list!)

@dylanobrienhehe // @jermaee // @boxofsteampunkplaces // @mollyknm // @greengarsstuff // @caswinchester2000 // @fandomfoodiedancer // @tsukyo // @kim23ivy // @cottonvioletsposts // @lildylsprayberryswhore // @msfandomfreak // @karleetakeenan // @theonewiththenerds // @i-love-scott-mccall // @elenapatricia99 // @zealouspursecowboydeputy // @hellraiser13-102407 // @ghostlygooppeanutwobbler // @theonewiththenerds // @sambucky8 // @ivxury // @rafecameron-drewstarkeyy // @hottia // @maybankprincess // @dylanobriensbitch12 // @black-rose-29 // @slutforjjmaybanks18 // @67-angelofthelordme-67 // @bailaycantaconmigo // @angelcbf // @daniellegreavess // @florchuvila22 // @evermorefluff // @ 321adonis123 // @todorokis-whore // @thatoneobsessedfriend // @shrekaliciouz // @stilesstilinskisrealwife // @v3niceb1tchldr // @jenniferrvsesi // @-stellastyless // @madaline1hatter // @dylxnshxrmxn // @kidd3ath // @eunoia-kth // @lelapine // @multifandom-obsessed // @yeswibblywobblytimeywimeyfan // @lim3rencee //@jasontoddslover

═══════*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═══════

#malia tate #malia tate smut #malia tate x reader #malia tate x reader smut #teen wolf #teen wolf smut #smut night #addie's kinktober 2021

211 notes · View notes

msfett · 3 years

Text

✨ More smutty excerpts 😁 NSA bebe 🔥

✳️ Boba Fett x F!Reader ✳️

Rating: NSFW Explicit 18+ Only

C/W: Explicit Sexual Content, Angry Rough PIV Hate Sex, Breathplay 💕

*please just suspend belief that Tipoca City was destroyed on Kamino during TBB* 🙃

**********************

Lightning illuminates the dark sky followed by the steady rumble of thunder. Windows line the outer wall allowing a dim light to cast shadows across the interior of the small, sparse room.

Your mind feels distant. The dark horizon blurs seamlessly with the ocean and you barely register the soft clank of armor. It’s as if you’re submerged in the depths of Kamino’s waters, sound muffled, moisture fully bathing your skin through water-laden clothes, limbs too heavy to move against the drag.

Few people have ever seen your entire face, felt your hands. These barriers have been essential for your survival, for continued anonymity. Even those that had gotten too close, accidental or otherwise, risked removal of such memories.

Fett doesn’t know any of these darker capabilities, but you doubt that knowledge would alter his premeditated actions. He’s a bold man with few occupancies for regret. The fact he is seeing your face, touching your bare hands, makes this infinitely intimate.

He’s carefully pulling a saturated glove from each of your hands, and is deliberately slow reaching up to remove your mask, not wanting to reveal your face too quickly, to overstep his boundary.

He’s trying to find support, something dense enough to push his thoughts in a different direction instead of tilting from the uncomfortable truth you present to him. And it’s not just now, but every time he’s asked you to, gladly offering your hand to build something different, something better.

Unobtrusive, yet powerful, your exhale is the soft breeze that topples the dilapidated structure.

In the midst of release, his grip encircles your arms, pulling you against his chest, thrusting your body upward into his. And before you can inhale, his mouth is seizing yours with barely checked ferocity, opening and entering, rolling his tongue against yours as he elicits a low groan.

His hands sweep up through your rain-soaked hair, capturing your delicate head, pulling you deeper into him. You feel his emotions rush over you, raw and blistering, justifying your own intensity. Your hands slide up the back of his neck and into the depths of his rich hair as your body bows backward, curving, fitting against him to melt into the heat he radiates.

One step and he has you pinned against the cold, horizontal bars across the transparisteel window, his body tightly trapping, daring you to escape his hold with one arm outstretched, palm flat to the window as the other hand presses into you lower back pushing your hips forward. And just like every other situation you’ve been in with him, he relentlessly battles you for total control.

But you’re a worthy opponent, and pulling away you savagely yank him back by his hair as if you would put him at a distance, hissing, “You’re so fucking aggravating, Fett.” Your forearm is pressed across his upper chest, sharply digging your nails into his bicep with each word.

He leans his head forward, into the tightness of your grip like he’s enjoying the prick of pain it causes, comfortable with its sensation. His gaze turns primal as you watch the softness recede from his eyes. You hold your breath, brow furrowed, matching his as hunger licks hotly through his blackened irises. Your belly contracts in response as his eyes skim over you, consuming you without so much as a touch.

“No, Jedi.” His raspy address is not the acerbic curse you once heard. “It’s you that’s fucking infuriating.” He jerks your hips impossibly closer to him, like he wants you to feel his anger take shape, his erection hardening against your body.

You are suspended in this moment as war rages in his obsidian eyes, fingers gripping his scalp in a desperate message of conflicting needs, when unexpectedly he begins to closely trail down your body, eyes locked with yours as he slowly descends.

It does something to you, watching him lower before you, a posture of submission except there’s nothing submissive about this man even as he sinks to his knees. He is thoroughly controlling every second of this. And you wonder what degree of perverse insincerity desecrates his deferential action, like worshiping a goddess of peace forced upon a violent throne.

His hands slide up your ankle, fingers tracing the seam of your pants to the thigh strap of your holster, and your hand constricts into a fist at your side. He doesn’t break eye contact. He doesn’t need to see. He knows exactly what he’s doing, slowly unbuckling.

Looking down at him, water drips from your hair to stream across his cheeks and down his angled jaw. And it’s a depraved, wicked movement as the edges of his lips curl up. You want to absolutely rip that mocking caricature of a smile off his fucking face, but all the same it s ends a shiver through your body.

“When’s the last time you used this blaster?” A dark sound, if it can even be classified as a chuckle, releases from the back of his throat, eyes steady with yours.

“Careful. Or it’ll be tonight.” The muscles in his jaw clench with your answer. He likes this weapon. He’s familiar with it. He’s exceptionally skilled in operating it. This type of violence is tangible, straightforward, simple cause and effect. He doesn’t want grey; too much room for error, uncertainty.

His hands glide up your other thigh, and you feel his seductive mix of fear and desire in knowing what lies concealed, hilt safely sheathed. “Don’t touch it,” you warn through gritted teeth.

“Too personal?” He mocks the sanctity of the weapon, but you can sense his unease. His ignorance about the functionality scares him, a novel thrill. Unlike the other side, it’s a sharp pinch as he jerks loose the leather strap and your lip twitches in contempt.

He could never understand the sacredness of this weapon. It is your lifeblood, acting as a conduit between you and the Force, serving as a symbol of honor and commitment. He wants to break each part, smear your honor across your face, across his in spiteful derision.

You hold back, breathing through the waves of anger trying to pull you under. He’s stoic under your glare, but stubbornly complies with a snort.

In a smooth, continuous motion he runs a hand up the front of your hip while his other palm dips dangerously low, moving across before gliding up to unclip the holster. He refuses to disengage from your glower as he places your effects on the floor with surprisingly great care.

He’s disarmed you. Your safety has been set aside by him. You’ve allowed it.

You briefly see that same acknowledgment echoed in his eyes before he bows his head, a disingenuous pretense. The significance of his forehead resting against your belly is implicitly tarnished by his enduring scorn. But he is the first to look away, breaking the aggressive stare, the smallest of surrenders.

You remember his whisper. This changes nothing.

And though you recall how those words shook you, he’s the one on his knees, an undeniable vulnerability itself, a yielding of some portion of control, and something has change d with this position of his choosing.

The heat of his breath against your skin sends a shiver through your body as his hands firmly grasp the back of your thighs. His lips ghost over the small space between your shirt and pants, softly pressing until you acutely feel the scrape of teeth across your skin.

Reestablishing your grip against his scalp, you yank him back. He has the hem of your shirt between his teeth, lips pulled back ever so slightly revealing the glint of his bared teeth as he bites down. He locks eyes with you again, the shirt snapping back as he intentionally releases it, teeth clicking, his decision to let go.

Confidently he rises up, sliding his hands up over your ass, flexing his fingers to lock you against him. The tension you’ve been holding is made apparent as you completely release him, knuckles white from intensity, tentatively unfurling your hands on his chest. Though his position has changed, a charged balance is present, an unfamiliar give and take you’ve not felt from him.

His breath rushes so hotly, prickling the shell of your ear. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

You make sure he can feel the indentations of your nails as they scratch down his chest, body shuddering in response as you grit, “I don’t need those weapons to completely destroy you.”

The sound rumbling from deep within his chest is absolutely feral as you willingly let him crush you against the warmth of his body, bending and not breaking from his intensity. “You made a bad choice coming back here. I took you somewhere safe.”

His mouth comes to hover over yours, ready to devour your words as they spill from your lips. And just when the weight of control seems to tip the scales, a secondary shift of balance occurs, an equalizing push and pull. “I wouldn’t be here if you had just left me alone. This is all on you.”

You’ve matched his intensity and he proves capable of an uncharacteristic mutual concession, groaning against your lips. It’s a move in your favor, and you decide to break even, gasping into his mouth, fingers clutching the back of his neck, thumbs tracing his hairline. You feel his strong fingers gliding up your shoulder blades to follow back down the curve of your spine, sliding slowly over each contour, heading with purpose toward your waist, your hips.

He sinks his fingers into the swell of your ass, and you pull back slightly to draw a breath, a small sound high in your throat, lips glistening until your teeth find purchase on his lower lip, biting and sucking him into your mouth. He hisses, a small fissure on his lip opening and you can taste the hint of iron mixed with salted rainwater.

You realize this is what he’s tasted like his whole life.

Your hands begin to move over him with sudden liberty pulling his dampened shirt off, feeling the expanse of his muscled chest, fingertips drifting lower over his taut abdomen. He clutches your rounded ass tightly in both hands and you eagerly leap up as he lifts your feet from the floor.

You sling one knee over his hip, the other leg snaking quickly around him so he’s caught in the encouraging vice of your legs. Your torso rises up high in his embrace, your mouths separating as you guide the back of his head, pulling him toward the fullness of your breasts. You gasp when he captures a peaked nipple through your clinging undershirt, sucking it into his mouth and catching it gently between his teeth.

The table he places you on is littered with items still set as if the occupants had left hurriedly in mid-use. He doesn’t bother to clear anything and the cold temperature of the alloy penetrates the fabric of your pants. The sitting position naturally draws your thighs up so your knees bracket his hips as your ankles hook around his legs. The movement causes objects to fall, hitting the floor with varied resonances.

There is a rushed sense of urgency coming from him, from the environment. You glance to see a child’s toy ship become part of the scattered mess below in his haste with you. And now he won’t bring his eyes to your face. The combination of contrasting sensations pour into you, heartbeat quickening, and it feels like the vibration is humming through your entire body.

You can tell he’s acting purely on impulse, every wild twist of his mouth against yours a reflection of the need to rapidly remove thought from his existence. His demanding hands wrap around your hips and drag you forward to the edge of the table where balance seems unlikely. But just as your arms have been clinging around his shoulders, he holds you steady as he pushes himself deeper toward the juncture of your thighs. Your gasp becomes a moan beneath the command of his lips as you feel the hard impression of his erection pressing against the center of your core.

His cock is straining against the barrier of his pants and you make an abandoned sound of pleasure, wriggling toward his frame, slowly rolling your hips. Your hands glide down over his back and onto his firm ass where you can feel the muscles driving towards you. His abdomen flexes against you, the sinew of his thighs jumping tensely to attention, cock twitching in excitement with your engagement.

His course satisfaction is palpable through his groan at your eager response. He’s precariously soliciting a mindless state as he makes savage use of your mouth, kissing you, until breathless, you release little sounds of encouragement for him.

You feel his fingers thrusting hungrily under your damp shirt, burning back up over your hips and belly until he’s caught your breasts in impatient palms. His touch is aching skill, an assured manipulation that molds the supple flesh, rubbing his roughened hands against you. He draws an already peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger and rolls it into a deft pinch. You gasp, your torso arching forward into him, moaning as he toys with the opposite breast, melting liquid down the center of your body until you are soaked with it. As you sharply inhale, you become aware of his musky scent. It is bitter rain spiced with sweat, heated by the warmth of his skin.

This is how he’s always smelled.

Mouthing along his jawline down his neck, your tongue flicks along the increasing pace of his jugular pulse and over the scarred skin where you deflected the blaster bolt that fateful evening. He recognizes your silent, veiled intimation, the first time you chose to spare his life. He growls a fast, foreign phrase through clenched teeth causing a pulse of heat to seep down your center, wet as it bursts the confines.

Then he’s ripping your shirt up and over your head, flinging it aside carelessly. You lean back on your hands and watch as he focuses on your bare breasts, his gaze completely transfixed, his hand slowly skimming feather light over the top of one, then traveling to the other. This measured exploration is nothing like his desire to dismantle you, nothing like the more aggressive need you can feel radiating from him now, expertly hunting your shadow. He is dangerous and you can feel it as he insinuates himself around your thoughts.

Your walls clench under his thorough visual examination, touch narrowing to a single fingertip that traces the slope of your breast until it is just his nail scraping over your rigid nipple. You jerk sharply, unprepared for the spear of heat the simple touch sends hurtling through you as he squeezes your breast harder. His mouth catches your nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth, suckling languidly as you moan softly. You cup one hand under his jaw as he alternates his attention to the other breast, feeling the grains of sand left behind by your shirt, pleasantly chafing with his tongue.

Looking down, you’re stirred by the fullness of his lips wrapping around your sensitive nipple, by the contrasting color of his flushed lips against your skin highlighted by streaks of lightning outside. You place your palms on the backs of his hands, urging him on, tightening his touch. And fuck. The intoxicating way he looks as he lavishes your body, how the half-mast of the thick lashes lightly tickle against your breast, floods you with moisture pooling hotly at the juncture of your thighs.

He releases you from his mouth, your body responsive in his embrace, and you can feel the need coursing through his body. He pants softly as your hands sweep through his soft, black hair, fingers curving until your nails are running over the sensitive back of his neck, teasing and making him even harder. You scrape your nails down his back, around and up to his chest, simultaneously drawing him deeper into the tender trap of your locked legs.

You’re not expecting the streak of pleasurable pain when his teeth latch onto your nipple and your whimper loudly until the pitched noise extends into elongated moan. His large hand reaches up to hold you still, almost completely encompassing your throat, lightly pressing, as a guttural growl of desire boils out of him to sweep fiercely around you, dark and carnal.

He breaks away to chase a bead of rain that slips down between your breasts, catching it with the tip of his tongue. He drags the velvet tool across your skin until he’s drawing a stiffened nipple into the warmth of his mouth as you release a small cry.

It feels like you’ve already lost the sensible part of your mind, swimming with the heat of arousal as his hands find the snap of your pants. You feel his hand slide around your hip and down over your ass again, but this time he’s touching your skin, having slipped his fingers past the loosened fabric. His depraved thoughts are exquisitely loud, knowing the rain-soaked material is the only physical barrier between him and his ability to fully experience your body. The material slides lower, setting your sensitive skin to screaming.

Your legs go lax as he supports your weight with one hand, pushing the pants from your body effortlessly and then urging your legs back to their embrace around him. His eyes rake over your naked figure. “Fuck.” He exhales loudly, biting his lower lip.

Breath quickening, he discovers you, training his sights on the glistening slit, lips slightly parted from the wide spread of your thighs. His furrowed brow momentarily relaxes as his eyes flick back up to meet yours. “Beautiful.”

There is truth in his words, devoid of his previous mocking tone, and you feel a natural softening in your chest at his revelation. Your entire body is exposed to this man and he’s chosen to stare at your most vulnerable area, your face, your eyes. It’s a challenge to look at him, wondering what he might see there.

As if reciprocating that feeling, he drops his gaze. Your body is easy to admire. He can make an objective assessment of each part, like any other man.

Shifting into a more comfortable frame of mind, he splays his fingers over the trembling muscles of your belly before rotating his hand to cup the mound of your sex. His middle finger brushes over you and you’ve been wound so tightly that this light touch inundates you with sensation, softly sighing as your eyelashes flutter shut.

“You weren’t supposed to be like this,” he gravels, burying his face into the side of your neck, inhaling deeply as if to drag your scent deep into his lungs. His finger is slow, deliberate, sliding just enough to gather slick for the tip so it glides without friction over your sensitive nub.

“You’re complicated.” His accented voice is coarse as his fingers thread through your hair, gripping hard enough to pull your head back. “And confusing.” He opens his mouth on the side of your exposed neck, sliding his hot tongue up its delicate length, dipping it into the hollow behind your earlobe.

“You make me think.” His confession unravels through guilt-burdened lips, unable to look in your eyes. “I don’t want to fucking think,” he mouths into your neck. “I don’t want to feel.”

“Is that why you hate me, Fett?” you murmur, forcing your hips to remain still under his increasing pressure.

His answer is audibly silent, but his is mind is booming decibels, breath blowing hot into your hair, over your skin, the speed chilling the sensitive back of your neck. His heavy panting makes you feel like your own short breaths are deprived of needed oxygen.

“I don’t even know your fucking name.” His fingertips slide into the collection of arousal between your soaking folds, running through until they’re completed coated before slipping one thick finger and then another into your wet, silky flesh. You gasp, a stuttering intake, encouraging his strong fingers to curl tightly as if he can coax your name into his covetous hand. Your arms drape over his shoulders, pulling him closer so that your face can burrow into the side of his neck, mewling as your walls clench tightly around the welcome fullness. He hums in satisfaction at your reaction, at the way he’s pulling these sounds from your tempered composure. And it’s messy as he presses open mouthed kisses along the top of your shoulder.

He feels you shudder, marveling at how tight you feel around his fingers, how your insides quiver with delicious, eager little spasms under his touch. Your hand grips around his taut bicep, muscles flexing as he pumps his fingers slowly into your cunt. You grind up against the calloused pads of his palm, stimulating your clit with every deep curl of his fingers. Allowing this momentary loss of control, you let him fuck you with his thick fingers and it feels so good. And you want to feel him too so you shove your hand down between your bodies, grasping the hard outline of his cock, preparing for the inevitable breakdown of will.

And just like this, he’s making you completely mad with dizzying sensation. He’s leading you up to the edge, and you’re so ready to cum all over his fingers, electricity branching out like lightening from your center…when his fingers suddenly stop.

And this time it is an unmistakable deviant chuckle.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you pant, and it looks like evil retribution pouring from his dark eyes as he pulls back from your grip enough to rob you of both your orgasm and of the beautiful image your mind was creating of his cock.

Why his cruelness still shocks any part of you is beyond comprehension and your fingers claw into whatever you can find. Then you see what he’s staring at, and your eyes dart between his face and his hand, from looking at his reaction to watching him slowly remove his fingers from your cunt. He’s absolutely soaked in your arousal so as he parts his fingers, strands of glistening slick web between them.

It looks like he’s inventing a new way to sin as he opens his mouth, sliding his fingers in to taste you, wrapping his lips around dirty, criminal fingers. His eyes close, wide nostrils flaring as he takes a deep, purposeful breath, drawing in your scent, solidifying his violation, groaning as he palms his cock over his pants.

His eyes snap open to confront yours, removing his fingers to spread them over his lips. He drags his fingers down, tongue licking between them to consume your residual arousal.

“Tell me.” And you clench at the sight of him spitting into his hand to reach under his waistband, roughly stroking his cock. The flared, engorged head is just visible, shining with the mix of his saliva and your slick.

“You are a hateful creature,” you sneer. This is not justifiably reconcilable, chest heaving, and you fight to keep your lips sealed.

You can feel his urge to take you, to be buried deep inside, rolling off him in torrid waves. “Don’t make me say it again.” Though it sounds like a demand, he’s waiting to hear your answer.

Feeling insolent, you mouth off to him. “Is that all you have for me, bounty hunter?” Your own vicious smile turns up the corners of your lips. “I expected more vigor from the Fett line.”

And your comment has exactly the desired effect, purposely rousing the sleeping beast. He’s growling, flipping you around, roughly pushing you against the metal. The table is cold against your heated cheek, biting at your sensitive nipples as you hear his unfastened pants swoosh to the floor. One hand is pressing hard between your shoulder blades, the other gripping into your hip, holding you in place as he uses his knee to shove your legs apart.

His muscled arm is like a band of durasteel as it crosses your lower abdomen from hip to hip, his other hand grasping through your hair until he has a firm hold near the base of your head. He jerks you back hard against him, your ass snuggling deep into the well of his hips as his thick thighs keep you parted.

Your body is wet from rain and arousal, and becoming more so with every eager rub of his suggestive burrowing against you. Your breath comes out as sharp gasps of pleasure as you feel his head slide along the edges of your slick folds. You feel your body craving, seeking, fuck it begging to be filled as he’s leaning forward over your outstretched body. The clamp of his teeth on your shoulder and the bruising force of his hands only intensify those desires. He’s so conformed to your body, bent over your smaller frame, as if he can absorb your pleasure, your anger, fuck, whatever you’re releasing, through contact.

You can feel the raging of his body, his want to be deep inside, the slick welcome of your anticipation bathing him in invitation. You writhe back against him, demanding him with savage provocation, tilting your pelvis forward as if he needs help accessing your soaked cunt, your body wildly seeking the fulfillment the hardness against you promises so hotly.

Oh and he fucking wants it too as he tries to moderate the bastardized ego of his current control. His breath is ragged. “Maker you’re so confusing.” But it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

“Even if,” he’s barely managing to grit out between placing his mouth along the back of your neck, relentlessly teasing his cock over your clit, “I don’t hate you...” All the buildup is making you soak his length before he’s even entered you. “That’s exactly how I want to fuck you.”

You feel your cunt involuntarily clench at th e words he’s growling into your neck, brutal in their honesty. His animalistic need to dominate you is overwhelming and you grind against his hard length until he can’t withhold. Returning upright, he grips your hips even harder with bruising intensity, dragging the tip of his head through your wet folds. He slowly enters you allowing you to adjust to the thickness of his cock. And though you haven’t seen the entirety, you can feel the breadth of it breaching you.

“Fuck.” He extends the word as you whine with the intensity of him stretching you, and you know he can feel you contracting around him. His thrusts are small, controlled, but deep, hitting against your cervix.

His hips are firmly pressed against your ass, letting his cock sit and twitch in your warmth, reveling in your little noises and desperate movements, when you realize he’s still taunting you. He’s barely moved except to take your overly sensitive clit between his index and middle finger, pressing and sliding his fingers slowly up and down causing you to buck your hips.

“Fucking move, Fett." It's an angry, breathy whine that sounds so unusual coming from your mouth.

You’re at that precious threshold as his sweat drips from his hair onto the small of your back. And he’s such a control freak that his restraint is torturing him as badly as he’s wanting to punish you by withholding. If there’s ever a next time, you’ll fucking remember this shit.

His groin is sticky with your arousal, and he’s got that good grip on your ass, kneading his fingertips into your cheek, indentations that will leave his mark of well-placed bruises. Beyond frustrated you tilt your hips, rocking forward, making his head press into you, hitting that aching spot in the front as your walls clench around him.

Without warning, his reaction is explosive, cursing and groaning as he pounds into your cunt, squelching with the brutal clash. He reaches for your neck, his thick, powerful fingers grasping and curling around the delicate column.

He feels you swallow, feels you breathe. Such vital, living reflexes. He can feel your pulse, feel it quicken under his fingers. And it makes him feel alive as if his world is tilting just a little off its axis.

His other hand drives up from your hip to your waist, the dampness from the rain and his sweat coating your skin making it a slick movement. His thrusts are profound and rough, tipping you forward onto your toes. A primal sound erupts from his lips as you squirm eagerly in compliance, your rough breath rasping beneath the press of his index finger on your throat.

His exhales become groans, the transference of anger with each snap of his hips, a punctuated rhythm like his cock can shatter you, cause you to completely break down for him. You can feel him reeling from the unadulterated high as he surges into you, rooting himself deeply in your heat, feeling the impossibly tight wetness of your cunt.

“Oh, fuck…yes,” you purr as your thighs begin to shake uncontrollably. His groan a reply as he thrusts into you, reveling in the slick sensation of your folds, of affecting you enough to speak. And you can barely tolerate how he’s been able to do this to you, how his heartless, cold-blooded body has made you feverish for satisfaction.

Then suddenly he pulls out, making you whimper in shock, overwhelmed by a sense of grasping loss as your hips writhe back to his instinctively. But he’s turning you over again, drawing your legs up, fitting them around his hips as he positions you back on the table. His thumbs are fitted into the crease of your thighs, fingers gripping low around your hips as you lean back on your hands.

And you’re so done with him teasing you, about to tell him he can go fuck off if he can’t finish the job he’s started, but he seizes your mouth with great need. His thoughts seem to flow through his lips with the nervous energy of being face-to-face. It’s as if he’s afraid he might see something telling in your eyes, and he can’t, no, won’t be able to turn away.

Breaching deeply into your eager body, he rasps. “Want to see you.” And you can feel his eyes burning back and forth between your gaze and where you’re joined, like he doesn’t want to miss out on visualizing either as he savagely drags your aching cunt over his thick length until he’s deeply seated in you. “You feel so fucking good.”

His brow is furrowed, eyes watching as he fucks into you hard, desiring to devastate, control, and he feels a sense of power. It’s like his cock is capable of conquering you, delivering his revenge by forcing your cunt to weep around him until he fills it with his seed, defeating you; defeating his own Jedi, cum dripping from his conquest, disgracefully marking her thighs.

He can do this if he avoids your gaze, make you an object, one more faceless acquisition.

But when he looks into your eyes, it’s entirely different, as if with each repeating deep thrust he’s letting go of some small thing. Like you’re giving him permission to release unwanted pieces of himself, his anger, his despair, the prideful parts that want to hold on to unfounded reasoning.

His eyes can’t seem to focus long on either, so you allow him to choose; his revenge, his peace, or something in between.

You cautiously slip past his projections and into the superficial areas of his mind. You can feel the build of pleasure climbing hot and tense around him. Rarely do you let yourself enjoy admittance to the mind, but it’s almost like he’s inviting you in, letting you access the lust, hatred, anger, confusion, the conflict of his want for you. It’s all tangled in tiny knots that only time and patience and determination have any hope of undoing.

He moves energetically within your body, and drawn in, he feels you match his rhythm. His hands glide over you, seeking sensitive spots, and focuses on your throbbing clit. His thumb rubs minute, firm circles in response to your walls squeezing his solid cock. You’re gasping with each successive movement he makes inside you, ruthlessly driving into you.

Your hands come up to clutch around his shoulders, pulling your chest against his. He’s tense, coiled, but the gentle way you press your lips against his neck causes him to involuntarily shiver. And as his muscles relax, you finally explode, crying out, cunt fluttering around him in rapid contractions. A screaming burst of energy flashes hot and bright from your center, radiating through limbs in pulsed waves. Your cum drenches his cock and you can feel the wetness spread down your ass making the table even more slippery.

There is a loosening of your limbs, weight falling against him, relaxing as you feel him tear into what’s left as you, yielding shreds of resistance you’re willing to part with. But he wants that piece you’ve been successfully guarding. His press against your hips asks you to lean into a new embrace. He supports your lower back, cradling the base of your head in the other hand, and it’s a only a whisper but has the force of something much greater. “Let me see you.”

And when your eyes drift to his, he’s not sure in his request, but your hand smooths back sweat-soaked strands of hair from his face, thumb removing the sheen from his cheek and his dark eyes lock with yours. His hips are beginning to lose rhythm, panting as his hips pull back, and his final thrust is shuddering, dislodging your gaze. His groan is long and undulating with violent, lurching spasms as his cock pulses with bursts of seed, filling you until drips of genetic material are smeared along your cunt.

Recovering, you almost don’t feel his come down, his give. He’s leaning into the light caress of your hand, mouth turning to kiss your palm; the palm that redirected and peacefully diffused his intended kill shot, that painfully bore shards of glass after the fall from his paralytic dart, that mercifully healed and granted him another chance at life.

And once again your palm is there, and this frightens him. Mind following body, he untangles from you and a different intensity replaces the more basic urges.

“Wait.” He motions for you to be still, and you can’t help but smirk at his muscled ass as he pads across the room.

“Here.” The blanket’s edges are frayed from age and use, but nonetheless soft in way that can only come from time and purpose. “There’s a bed in that room.”

“I’m fine out here.” Out of habit, you thumb back and forth over the worn material.

“I’d prefer you not be in the room with all the weapons.” He glances over to the separate piles accumulated on the floor.

“And I, you.” This impasse was inevitable.

“Fine, but the bed is small.” He begins to replace items that had fallen during your activities back on the table, rearranging them methodically.

“I thought I saw another bedroom over —“

“No,” he interrupts, stopping you immediately. “We’re …you’re not going in there.”

You nod, not questioning him, and he follows behind you after repositioning the toy ship on the table.

Just like the blanket, the bed has its own imperfections. Made for one person, there are permanent indentations from previous use and you both become similar shapes around each other, shifting toward the center to better fit the impression.

“I’m a light sleeper.” You are cautious.

“So am I.” But he seems more comfortable.

“If you move, I’ll know.” The room feels particularly cold to you.

“Same.” As if for emphasis, his arm wraps around your hip. The warmth from his body lulling you into that dream-like, in-between space of consciousness. The rain has become a soothing background noise, something that belongs.

*********************

💕 Smut-tastic excerpt from Chapter 6 of When Light Meets Matter 😁 If you enjoyed, stroll on over to my blog, @msfett for the full chapter and previous chapters 😊 Come say hello or send me some thots about our sexy bucketheads!

Please feel free to reblog and share ☺️

Crossposted on A03: msfett_ifyourenasty

💕 Partner consent, communication, and trust are essential when engaging with any elements of BDSM. It's safer, more intimate, and just straight-up sexier to know what a partner wants, needs, and agrees to 💕

Safe. Sane. Consensual.

#boba fett #boba fett smut #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x oc #boba fett x you #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fanfic #boba fett imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #boba fett/reader #when light meets matter #ms fett

58 notes · View notes