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ilsanslut · 5 months

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꒷♡꒷ STRESS RELIEF!

♰ featuring: wriothesley [genshin impact]

♰ note: i’m in heat and all i can think about is a stressed and tired wriothesley eating out his pretty gf from the back to relieve his tension.

sypnosis: get you a man who will drown in your pussy and call it “stress relief”! wc: 2.6k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. femme/female bodied!reader. messy pussy-eating. dominant/feral!wriothesley. marking. biting. spanking. squirting. cursing. hand-holding. groping. hair pulling. ꒷꒦

It was almost as though Wriothesley was being crushed under the constant pressure of his job as the warden within the shadowy confines of the Fortress of Meropide. The burden of his obligations bore down on him like the merciless force of the sea that imprisoned them all within the stronghold. When a problem arose or strife broke out among the prisoners, he was the one they all turned to for help. Today, on the other hand, appeared to be the day that he would be pushed to his breaking point. There was a mountain of paperwork that was piled high on top of his desk and seemed to never end; the pipes seemed to trickle and leak indefinitely, necessitating constant repair; the elevators are out of commission for maintenance, forcing everyone to use the forgotten, decrepit, and mildew-smelling stairwell; and, to top it all off, there is a 'Credit Coupon' thief swiping people's credits beneath their noses. And, not to mention, he had been so backed up with dealing with everyone else’s problems that he had already missed his afternoon tea.

Anyone near could feel the ominous aura radiating off of the iron doors of his office.

Though, amidst the chaos and tension, one beacon of solace shone through—you. His light in the darkness. The one thing keeping him sane.

Your warm smile and unwavering support were the calming forces that held the key to unlocking his cold heart. He craved the comforting words you spoke, the softness of your touch, and the calm you provided amidst the chaos of everyday life. You turned into a haven for him—a haven from the relentless pressure that felt like it would swallow him.

Which is exactly why you weren’t surprised when a guard came to you while you were aiding Sigewinne with a patient, informing you that the Duke requested your presence in his office immediately. Lunch was usually shared by the two of you, but you expected that he would be too overwhelmed with work to remember to eat, let alone take a break, given everything he has been going through. The two guards outside his office gave you a pitying glance as you got closer, understanding that things were not good. Nevertheless, they let you cross the bridge and into his office. You went in, and the first thing you saw was Wriothesley sitting on the bottom two steps, as if he were waiting for you. You noticed that his tie was unkempt, his jacket was completely abandoned, and his hair had a disheveled tousle that suggested he had either been tugging or running his hands through it for at least a while. That, and it was impossible to ignore the worn-out look in his faded hues.

But as soon as your eyes met, his worn-out expression changed to something strange but familiar—something you had seen on many sultry nights spent by yourself with him in the past. His eyes were fixed on you, freezing you in place with an indisputable lust, a carnal hunger, and a burning desire. Pushing himself up from the steps, he moved toward you with calculated, deliberate steps, each one more heavy than the last, like a beast cornering its prey, his heavy steel boots clinking against the copper floors. Soon, he was towering over you, hands twitching at his sides as though he were refraining from tearing you apart where you stood.

“You look good.” You blurted, swallowing thickly in your throat, as you were cornered against the heavy steel of his office’s door.

He chuckled, throaty and sultry, as his hand met your waist, the other one coming to rest it’s forearm above your head as he caged you between the door and his muscular frame, “Yeah?”

His casual drawl had your knees going weak, threatening to buckle beneath you while his thumb rubbed slow, salacious circles into your hip. “I think I’ve been better.”

You shrugged nonchalantly with an indifferent hum, raising your hands to trail absentminedly over his large chest that bulged through his dress shirt, finally coming to toy with his tie. “Mhm. You missed lunch today, you know.”

“Did I?” His voice was husky—deep, the subtle rumble of his baritone voice going straight to your core causing your thighs to squeeze against one another—an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Wriothesley, who’s palms grew hungry on you, manuvering behind you to grope thick handfuls of your rear shamelessly. “I’ve been so swamped with work that it must’ve slipped my mind. But . . . I’m sure you understand, right, baby?” His arm that was poised above your head lowered, his partially gloved thumb stroking at the supple flesh of your cheek. “Why don’t you let me make it up to you, yeah? . . . I have an idea that will make us both happy.”

You had an idea as to what he was alluding to, but nonetheless, you nodded with a hum of agreement. This made Wriothesley smirk in response, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear so that he may lean in and press a kiss to your temple.

“Turn around.”

His dominant undertone left little room for argument as you did what he asked, turning around so that you were facing the metal door of his office. Without another moment's hesitation, you felt yourself pushed against it, your body pinned against Wriothesley's heated form with your cheek smushed against the cold metal face of the door. His body pressed firmly against yours, and you felt something unmistakable grinding into your ass, all the while his sharp canines drug themselves up your neck, a silent warning to stay put.

And you did.

Hot, sloppy kisses trailed themselves down the back of your neck as greedy palms groped and squeezed at your body wherever they could reach—almost as though they were attempting to alleviate tension with every heated touch. Sensing his descent, you eventually heard him drop to his knees behind you, his gloved hands reaching up to lift your skirt and turn it over to expose your plump, pliant rear. A growl, something animalistic and ravenous, came from the back of his throat, and one of those large palms rose for a split second before slapping your right cheek, making you squeal and making Wriothesley laugh.

“Careful, Y/N.” He chided, using his palms to massage the abused flesh as an imprint of his hand—ringed fingers and all—slowly began to appear on your ass. “This door may be thick, but this chamber echos. You don’t want the guards and—Gods know who else—hearing you on the other side, do you~?”

You felt your face heat up against the frigid door’s surface, now acutely aware of the silence on the other side, which meant his guards were now undoubtedly listening. Nonetheless, you nodded, casting a shy glance over your shoulder to your lover, who was already gazing up at you with half-lidded eyes and that salacious smirk on his face that just made your knees go weak and your folds gush with arousal.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that though,” He stated nonchalantly, leaning over to press a soft kiss against your ass as sinful digits reached up to peel your already soaked panties down your thighs until they pooled at your ankles. Wriothesley groaned inwardly, his pupils blown, as he used his thumbs to spread you apart in all your glory, admiring how your folds glistened in the dim lights of the lower floor of his office. “*I can’t promise that I’ll be going easy on you either, baby.”

Without saying another word, his hands reached out and took firm hold of both your cheeks, spreading them wide before plunging straight into your dripping folds. Immediately, your knees were buckling beneath you as a pleasured mewl escaped your lips, your nails dragging against the metal surface in an attempt to find purchase. With his hands leaving your ass to wrap around the front of your thighs, his tongue was unrelenting as it ruthlessly claimed every inch of your pussy to himself, drawing you closer to him so he could continue to devour you. His tongue was hot, heavy, and drooling as it spread you wide open, encircling your clit, and slurping up whatever delicious goodness you had to offer. His nose pressed deep into your wetness, drowning in your depths, but he did not seem to care in the slightest. He wanted more—craved more—and one thing about Wriothesley was that he was a man who got what he wanted.

His tongue and ravenous lips wrapped around your tender nub and sucked away like a starving man enjoying the sweetest nectar of life, leaving you a moaning mess above him and unable to stop your hips from moving on their own as you practically fucked yourself against his face. You didn’t care if the guards—or anyone else, for that matter—heard you. All you could focus on was how his sweltering and deft mouth had you practically creaming onto his selfish brims already.

“Wrio~!” You keened, nearly losing your footing had it not been for Wriothesley keeping you firmly in place by his grip. “I-I can’t! I-It’s too much!” You whimpered just as another cry drew from your lips from a jolt of pleasure from your nethers.

In response, you felt another sharp spank rain down on your ass, and Wriothesley finally withdrew, but only so that he could snarl out, “You can and you will. Fucking take it, Y/N.” He was breathless, panting—truly, a man starved in his most primal state.

He pulled away momentarily, strings of your arousal clinging to the lower half of his face, which was glistening in your translucent juices, to turn to your inner thighs. His jaw widened before clamping down harshly on your once supple flesh, biting and sucking the blood to it’s surface to leave furious marks in his wake.

“Wriothesley!” You wept with delight and surprise at the lewd action that made your folds rub together, and you were unable to ignore the disgustingly lewd squelching sound that came from your cunt.

He repeated the same action, this time on your ass cheek, taking the pliant flesh between his teeth and delivering yet another primal bite to your soft skin, effectively marking you. “Shit, Y/N.” His heated breath wafted over your clit, making you clench around nothing as he huffed and panted like a mutt against your thigh, an action that your attentive lover obviously noticed. “The things you do to me . . .~”

Without saying anything more, he plunged back into you, even more intense than before. With his deft fingers reaching around your front and rubbing quick, merciless circles onto your clit, he was aiming at his sole target, your sopping hole. Pushing his tongue in and out of your wetness, he slurped every last drop of your sweet juices onto his tongue. He was milking you like a machine—using your clit as the trigger to release more and more of your translucent fluids onto his tongue, which he rapaciously gluped down. All the while, your toes curled in your shoes, and as every one of his hot, heavy pants exhaled through his nose, you were able to feel it against your pretty asshole.

“Wrio, wrio, baby, please! R-Right there, I-I’m gonna . .” Your hasty pleas were cut off, your hand reaching back to tangle itself into your boyfriend’s smokey locks, holding him in place as you basically rode his tongue.

You felt him chuckling against your folds before you heard him, unable to stop the sharp cry that escaped you from the sudden vibration. His hand left your clit, however, it was soon replaced with his mouth in favor of meeting your hand with his own. He pried your death grip from his locks, intertwining his fingers with your own as his head shook back and forth between your thighs. His lips suckled away at you in such an unforgiving way that it made your head spin and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Anyone within the immediate vicinity could definitely hear the unabashed slurping and squleching sounds emanating from his efforts as they reverberated through his office's chambers.

He took your hand in his and massaged calming circles around your knuckles until you finally came undone in front of him, unable to contain your overwhelming euphoria. A series of cries and mewls left your lips, leaving you breathless as your juices came flooding out of you, drenching your lover’s face and attire in a torrent, which he happily gulped down. Had it not been for his grip on your frame, you most definitely would’ve collapsed, but he held you firmly against him, even using his face to support your weight at one point like your own personal seat—because it was. After all, he was yours just as much as you were his, and he’d be damned if anything tried to change that.

His hurried movements subsided during your high, his tongue now languidly stroking your folds to carry you through your blissful daze; still, you could not control your hips from lurching each time he touched your tender, pulsating nub. Before long, he began to back off, giving you some leverage and giving himself space to finally breathe. His hot breath wafted against your behind, his chest rising and falling with each breath, finally being kind enough to himself to give him the sweet, sweet oxygen his lungs had been begging for.

Slowly, he rose from behind you, your half-lidded gaze meeting his own through the tears that formed on your lash line, which he wiped away with a swipe of his thumb.

“Y’still with me, pretty?” He whispered in a honeyed drawl, placing a soft kiss against your shoulder as the hand that was holding your own moved to your bicep to rub soothing circles along your arm.

You nodded, albeit weakly, still recovering from the mind-shattering orgasm he had just put you through.

“Y’feel better now, Wrio?”

He responded with a hearty chuckle, rolling his neck in a tantilizing way that exposed his throbbing Adam’s apple and scarred throat. His gaze met your own again, this time with a familiar spark burning behind his dusky hues, “Ahh, a’litte bit.”

He leaned over you once again, his forearm resting above your head as his chest pressed against your back. You gasped, your hips jolting as you felt his rock-hard bulge pressing against you, just barely managing to graze your sopping folds.

“Still feeling a little ‘tense’ here . . . but you’d be willing to help me out,” He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. Although you couldn’t see him, you could practically feel the smirk beaming from his stupidly handsome face.

“Right, baby?”

Oh, he was going to be the death of you someday.

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

5K notes · View notes

dolcettamagica · 1 month

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𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚

gangleader!sukuna x reader, modern au

tags: daddy kink, dirty talk, blowjob, sukuna speaks italian, petnames in italien translations: piccola - little one/baby principessa – princess che brava – (what a) good girl sei carina, lo sai? – you're cute, you know? ti piace, piccola? – you like it, little one? notes: minors dni wc: 3.6k

Life was tough. At least your life was.

Living alone in this day and age was expensive and to pay your student loans was almost impossible. Yes, you could go the easy route and just sell your body or some pictures but that really wasn’t your style. You weren’t going to turn your body into a product. So, when a man called Toji came up to you, asking how much you were worth for the night, you rejected him and asked if you could do something else that would earn you just as much money. The handsome man simply smirked before your criminal life started. Ever since then your job was to “exchange fake money with real money”. Money laundering.

And you did just that. Asking your friends to lend you money and giving them back fake money, returning products you bought with the fake money, asking people if they could change one bill for another. It worked. The last few months worked without any problems at all. This month however was an absolute nightmare. Not only did Toji give you way more money than usual, you were in the middle of exam season. You were running behind and Toji warned you that his boss, Sukuna, was not pleased with your current status. Well, it’s not like you could do anything about it anyway.

As the heavy front door creaked open, a wave of exhaustion washed over you, burdened with the weight of deadlines, exams and Toji’s constant warnings. Your footsteps echoed in the dimly lit hallway, each one a testament to the fatigue that settled deep within your bones. With heavy shoulders and a weary sigh, you dragged yourself through the threshold of your home, longing for the solace of your own space. The weight of your backpack seemed to increase with every step, a physical manifestation of the mental strain you had endured throughout the day. As you entered your room, the soft glow of your desk lamp provided a faint comfort, but even its warmth couldn't dispel the overwhelming sense of stress that enveloped you. Toji kept sending you messages, telling you to hurry up and wash the money. Another sigh fell from your lips as you let your backpack and jacket fall to the ground. The moment you turned around you started to scream – a stranger was sitting on your bed.

Sukuna, the embodiment of wrath and power, sat on the edge of the bed, his presence casting a palpable aura of danger in the room. Clad in a white shirt and black pants that hugged his form with menacing elegance, his usually composed demeanor was shattered by a seething anger that simmered just beneath the surface. The fabric strained against his muscles as if unable to contain the sheer force of his rage. With a clenched jaw and eyes ablaze with fury, he exuded an aura of dominance that commanded attention. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he fought to contain the tempest within him. Every breath he took seemed to echo with the promise of destruction, a silent warning to those who dared to cross him. Despite the veneer of sophistication his attire provided, there was no mistaking the primal wrath that pulsed through his veins, ready to unleash chaos upon any who dared provoke him.

“Who the hell are you?!”

“Ain’t no way you’re talking to your leader like this, stupida.”

Realization hit instantly. This was what Toji was warning you from the whole time. It was Sukuna – the gang leader. You heard a lot of terrifying things about him. The name of Sukuna Ryomen struck terror into the hearts of all who dared to utter it. A gang leader with a penchant for unspeakable cruelty, his reign of terror was marked by a litany of horrifying deeds that stained the streets with blood and despair. From the depths of his depravity, tales whispered of Sukuna's penchant for gruesome displays of power — from the grisly dismemberment of rivals left as warnings, their mutilated remains strewn across the city like macabre ornaments, to the innocent lives snuffed out in acts of ruthless vengeance. His depraved appetite for control knew no bounds, his twisted machinations orchestrating a symphony of fear that echoed through the alleys and corridors of the urban labyrinth he ruled with an iron fist. Behind the facade of opulence and influence, Sukuna's true legacy lay in the shattered lives and haunted souls that bore witness to his reign of terror, forever scarred by the horrifying specter of his atrocities.

It was the first time that you actually saw him and it was the first time that you instantly got on your knees for a man. You knew you had to show your utmost respect to this man. “I am so sorry. I–I didn’t know. Please forgive me, Sukuna.”

A grin graced his face as he saw you submit to him so quickly. He loved that fear struck anyone who laid eyes upon him. On top of that: You were a beauty. However he could not just look over your lack of achievements. At first he was impressed by your work. You managed to wash all the money and not have a single cop suspicious of you, you were smart and didn’t tell a living soul about your connection to Sukuna’s gang. So, he decided to give you some more money, he was sure that you were able to handle it. You weren’t and you took none of Toji’s – his right hand – warnings seriously.

“You look good begging on your knees, piccola. You would have made way more money on the streets, you know?”, he snickered, Toji told him about your decision to never sell yourself. Sukuna respected that as long as you still somehow benefited him. “Toji warned you, didn’t he? You’re behind. Why are you fucking up my business, y/n?”

The flicker of a lighter cast an eerie glow upon his features, accentuating the cold calculation that lurked behind his piercing gaze. With practiced nonchalance, he retrieved a cigarette from its pack, his fingers deftly manipulating the slender cylinder with an air of arrogance. Ignoring the palpable tension that hung in the air like a shroud, he brought the flame to the tip of the cigarette, a small ember igniting amidst the darkness. The sharp inhale of smoke filled the room, intertwining with your fear, a sinister dance that mirrored the power dynamics at play. In that moment, as the tendrils of smoke curled around him like malevolent serpents, Sukuna asserted his dominance with a single, calculated gesture, cementing his control over both the room and its trembling inhabitant.

“I–It’s just exam season…and I was given more than usual…I am really, from the bottom of my heart, sorry for everything.” You were frozen in the oppressive atmosphere of Sukuna's presence, your heart hammering in your chest like a caged bird desperate for escape. As he lit up a cigarette with an effortless display of power, you couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down your spine, your nerves alight with a cocktail of fear and anticipation. Your breath caught in your throat, caught between the instinct to flee and the inexplicable pull of his dominating presence. Despite the terror that coiled in the pit of your stomach, there was an undeniable undercurrent of arousal that stirred within you, a primal response to the sheer force of his authority. The way he commanded the room with effortless control sent a shiver of excitement coursing through your veins, igniting a fire of desire that burned beneath the surface of fear. In the face of his overwhelming dominance, you found yourself teetering on the edge of submission, your body betraying you with each racing heartbeat as you struggled to navigate the complex interplay of fear and desire that pulsed between you two.

Sukuna's gaze, sharp as a blade, pierced through your facade of fear with unnerving precision. In the flickering light of the room, his eyes seemed to strip away your defenses, laying bare the tangled web of emotions that churned within you. He could sense the trembling of your limbs, the rapid rise and fall of your chest betraying the fear that gripped you. But beneath that fear, there simmered something else — a raw, primal desire that pulsed with a rhythm all its own. With a predatory grin, Sukuna leaned in closer to your kneeling form, his voice a low, husky murmur that seemed to caress the very air around. "I can see right through you, piccola," he murmured, his words laden with a dangerous allure that sent a thrill coursing through your veins. "You can't hide that hunger from me." And in that moment, as the tension crackled between you like electricity, you realized that you were completely at his mercy, your desires laid bare for him to see.

As Sukuna's penetrating gaze lingered on you, you felt a flush of embarrassment spread across your cheeks like wildfire. Caught in the crosshairs of his scrutiny, you wished you could disappear into the shadows, away from the intensity of his knowing stare. The revelation of your hidden desire left you feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way you had never experienced before. Each beat of your heart seemed to echo the rhythm of your mortification, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you like a heavy burden. Unable to meet his eyes, you lowered your gaze to the ground, willing yourself to shrink away from the searing intensity of his presence. In that moment, you felt small and insignificant, your embarrassment a stark reminder of your own vulnerability in the face of his commanding dominance “Excuse me…?”

Sukuna leaned back again, a smug grin on his face “Come closer, principessa, kneel right in front of me.”

Every word was your command. Slowly you got closer. Sukuna lounged on the edge of the bed with an air of undeniable authority, his legs spread wide in a display of dominance that seemed to fill the room. Clad in sleek black pants, he exuded an aura of raw masculinity that was impossible to ignore. Before him, you knelt with a mixture of trepidation and submission, your eyes downcast as you awaited his next command. The tension between you crackled in the air like electricity, the space between you charged with unspoken desires and untamed passions. The balance of power shifted palpably, with Sukuna reigning supreme over his willing captive, your fates intertwined in the complex dance of dominance and submission.

With a gesture both possessive and tender, Sukuna's hand descended upon your head, his touch gentle yet commanding as he stroked your hair like a prized possession. His fingers traced the curve of your skull with an almost possessive reverence, eliciting a shiver of submission that coursed through your veins. In the silent exchange between you each caress was a silent affirmation of his dominance. With a soft, whispered command, he guided your head to rest upon his thigh, the weight of your submission a tangible presence that settled between. In this intimate tableau, you surrendered yourself completely to his will, your breath mingling with the fabric of his pants as you lay vulnerable and exposed before him, a willing captive to his every whim.

“Sei carina, lo sai? Look up at me with those big innocent eyes. Wanna seduce me, piccola?” As Sukuna's hand firmly grasped your head, a jolt of arousal surged through you, your pulse quickening with an intensity that matched the grip of his fingers. The sensation of his touch, commanding yet possessive, sent a thrill through, igniting a fire of desire that burned hotter with each passing moment. Caught in the vice-like grip of his hand, you felt a surge of excitement welling up within you, your breath hitching in your throat as you succumbed to the intoxicating power of his dominance. The boundaries between fear and desire blurred into nothingness, your body responding instinctively to his commanding presence with a hunger that you could scarcely contain.

“D–Did you just call me cute?”

“Is that all you have to say about it?”, With a deft motion, Sukuna's thumb traced the line of your cheek, his touch both possessive and tender as he caressed your skin with a commanding intimacy. As his thumb lingered at the corner of your lips, a surge of anticipation rippled through you, your breath catching in your throat at the tantalizing prospect of what was to come. With a boldness born of desire, you parted your lips ever so slightly, inviting him to delve deeper into the depths of your surrender. Without hesitation, Sukuna's thumb slipped past your lips, his touch igniting a symphony of sensations that danced upon your tongue. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady blend of power and desire that left you dizzy with need. You surrendered yourself completely to his touch, you felt a primal connection forming between you, binding you together in a web of desire that defied all logic and reason. And as you savored the taste of him upon your lips, you knew that you belonged to him utterly and completely, your surrender a testament to the irresistible pull of his dominance.

With an air of unwavering confidence, Sukuna basked in your submission, relishing in the power he wielded over you. His gaze, smoldering with desire and dominance, held you captive, each glance a silent command that you willingly obeyed. As he felt you yield to his touch, a predatory smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, his satisfaction evident in the way he savored your surrender. With a voice that dripped with authority, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he posed the question that hung between you like a tantalizing promise. “Che brava. Wanna make me feel good, piccola? Wanna taste something else?” he murmured, his words laced with a potent blend of desire and challenge.

With a silent nod, you affirmed your desire to delve deeper into the intoxicating dance of submission and dominance that bound you to Sukuna. Your breath hitched in anticipation as you watched him lean back with a self-assured grace, his movements deliberate as he reached for the buckle of his pants. The sound of leather against metal echoed in the hushed room, each click and slide a symphony of anticipation. With each movement, the air seemed to crackle with an electrifying tension, the promise of what was to come hanging heavy between you like a veil of desire. As he freed himself from the confines of his pants, a thrill of excitement surged through you. As you watched him bare himself before you, you knew that there was no turning back — you were his, body and soul, bound to him in a fiery embrace of passion and submission.

He was big. Bigger than you were used to. It was veiny, long, thick and circumcised. “Ti piace, piccola?” Him speaking Italian turned you on even more. It suited him – his aura, his appearance, his dominance.

With a mixture of trepidation and eagerness, you lowered yourself before Sukuna, your heart pounding in your chest with a heady mixture of anticipation and desire. As you met his gaze, you found yourself ensnared by the raw intensity of his eyes, their smoldering depths fueling the flames of your arousal. With trembling hands, you traced the contours of his thighs, your touch a silent prayer for permission as you inched closer to your purpose. And when you felt the heat of him against your lips, a thrill surged through you, your mouth watering with a hunger that mirrored the primal need that pulsed within your veins.

“Brava piccola.” With a commanding yet tender touch, Sukuna threaded his fingers through your hair, guiding your movements with a firm guidance that left you breathless with desire. As you wrapped your lips around his cock, you savored the taste of him upon your tongue. With each eager suck and swirl of your tongue, you sought to please him, your own pleasure intertwined with the intoxicating thrill of his approval.

As the heat of passion consumed you, Sukuna's dominance surged to the forefront, his grip on your hair tightening with a commanding force as he pushed your head down onto him with an urgency that bordered on ferocity. He started fucking your face, with each rough thrust, he plunged deeper into the depths of your mouth, his movements guided by an insatiable hunger. The air was thick with the heady scent of your shared arousal, the sound of your ragged breaths mingling with the wet, slick sounds of his cock going deep into your throat. In the depths of your submission your senses were overwhelmed by the dizzying whirlwind of pleasure and pain.

“Hmm…fuck, you feel perfect, piccola. Was made to suck my cock. Look at you, taking it in so good.”

With each forceful thrust, Sukuna primal desire surged forth, his movements a testament to the raw intensity of his need. As he plunged deeper into your mouth, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, your senses drowning in the overwhelming tide of sensation. The taste of him upon your tongue was intoxicating, a heady blend of power and passion that left you trembling with desire. Suddenly he pulled you off his cock, leaving you out of breath, your cheeks soaked with your tears.

You lowered your head, licking and sucking his balls as you started to jerk him off simultaneously. As you lavished attention upon him, your mouth and hands working in tandem to pleasure him, he unleashed a torrent of dirty whispers that sent shivers cascading down your spine.

“My good little girl.”

“You’ll make daddy cum, piccola.”

“Fuck, makes me want to make you mine, principessa.”

His voice, low and husky with desire, filled the air with a symphony of erotic promises, each word a tantalizing invitation to delve deeper into the depths of the shared ecstasy. Your own desire surged to dizzying heights, your arousal palpable in the slick heat that pooled between your thighs.

As the crescendo of pleasure reached its peak, Sukuna's primal instincts surged forth, his release imminent and inevitable. With a guttural groan of satisfaction, he surrendered himself to the relentless tide of ecstasy, his body tensing with the force of his climax. In a torrent of raw passion, he came, his hot seed spilling forth, coating your face with its warmth. You gasped in surprise and ecstasy as you felt him release, your skin bathed in the sticky warmth of his essence. And as you looked up at him with eyes glazed with desire, you knew that in that moment, you had become a vessel for his pleasure, your own desires subservient to the intoxicating power of his dominance.

As Sukuna beheld the aftermath of his release, a smug grin spread across his lips, his satisfaction evident in the arrogant tilt of his chin. With a sense of ownership that bordered on arrogance, he surveyed you before him, your face adorned with the evidence of his dominance. His gaze lingered on the trails of his cum that glistened upon your skin, a testament to the primal power he wielded over you. With a low chuckle that reverberated through the room, he voiced his approval, relishing in the sight of his essence decorating your face like a badge of honor.

“Suits you, piccola. You look pretty with my cum all over your slutty face. Should take a picture as blackmail material.” For Sukuna, there was no greater pleasure than seeing his cum adorning your face, a physical manifestation of his power and control over you. He gazed upon you with a possessive gleam in his eyes, he knew that he had claimed you completely, body and soul, in a fiery embrace of dominance and submission.

With a swift and fluid motion, Sukuna straightened himself, the clink of his belt buckle punctuating the air as he secured it with a confident flick of his wrist. His movements were calculated and precise, every gesture a testament to the unwavering confidence that defined his persona. As he stood before you, your gaze lingered on him, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of his commanding presence. With a final glance, he bestowed upon you a smug smirk, a silent acknowledgment of the power he held over you.

“Would love to fuck your sweet lil’ pussy right now but I still have some business to attend to, piccola. By the way, you have two more weeks for that money. Next time around it won’t end this way.”

Without another word, Sukuna turned on his heel and made his way toward the door, his steps echoing in the quiet room with a sense of finality. His departure left a palpable void in his wake, a reminder of the fleeting nature of their passionate encounter. And as he disappeared into the shadows, you left alone with your thoughts, your body still humming with the remnants of the pleasure you gave him. You knew that you would forever be under his spell, your desires forever entwined with his in a web of lust and submission. Though you did wish that he would have did something to you.

Just when you decided to play with yourself you heard your phone ring – a message from an unknown number.

Ciao piccola, wait for daddy. I’ll be back in two hours. I want your pussy to be soaking wet.

#𓂃⊹ ִֶָ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna jjk #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna smut

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delirious-donna · 1 month

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The Temporary Assistant [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: I’ve been obsessed with the exhausted lawyer for some time now, but this is the first time I’ve written a fic for him… please be kind cause I baby.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: NSFW, pwp, established relationship, reader is assumed to be a little bit on the booby side, pseudo boss/subordinate dynamic, spit as lube (don’t do this folks), Higuruma is a breasts man, nipple play, little prep, cumshot

Masterlist

“She quit. What do you mean, she quit?”

Higuruma massaged his tired eyes in steady circles, huffing out a laugh at your exasperated questioning and the equally perplexed look on your face.

“Darling, I don’t know how else to phrase it other than the young lady no longer works for me,” he offered with fatigue lacing his tone. It was late, and he didn’t want to be having this conversation for the third time today. The first had been with his partner at the law firm they jointly owned, and the second with the agency supervisor his previously employed assistant worked for.

Nanami hadn’t been surprised at the news, a fact that bothered Hiromi more than he cared to admit. His partner was not one for pulling his punches, so Hiromi was accustomed to his sometimes blunt manner of speaking, but it still hurt to think that Kento had seen something coming that he had been blindsided by.

“I’m only surprised she lasted this long.” Those were his parting words as Hiromi stalked dejectedly back to his office at Nanami’s insistence that his assistant would be far too busy to spread her attention to them both. Not words he’d been happy to hear.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Higuruma. That’s not like her, but I’m afraid it’ll be at least two weeks until I can provide a replacement.” The agency supervisor sounded genuinely shocked at the sudden resignation, and his day simply went from bad to worse.

Hiromi flopped onto the couch, his head lolling back with his eyes sliding shut from the weight of his fatigue. It had been mounting all day, and now that he was home, where he should be finding solace in the comfort of his surroundings and his loving wife’s embrace, he was hit suddenly with a fresh reminder of the shit he’d landed in.

A soft hand caressed the side of his neck, inducing a shiver of relief. It was followed by the weight of your body settling over his spread thighs, your head resting against his shoulder. His suit jacket still hung from his lithe frame, the button undone and the shirt beneath badly wrinkled from the long commute home, but you didn’t care about his untidiness.

He felt every quiet exhale fan his throat, the ghost of a smile finding its way to his face despite it all. Your nimble fingers burrowed into the knot of his tie, loosening it until you could pull it free and toss it away. “What are you going to do, Hiromi? I know you have that court date coming up… it’s a busy time. How about Nanami’s assistant?”

“Not an option. I already tried,” he muttered with a shrug.

Opening his eyes, he peered down at you tucked into the crook of his neck, a hand inside the collar of his shirt and your nails grazing gentle patterns over his collarbone. He chewed his lip, fearful to broach the idea planted by his partner when his foot was almost out the door. “You could always ask your wife…”

Selfishly, he indulged himself in your affections, your scent that permeated every corner of the home you shared and let his fingers, stiff from the cold, warm against your feminine curves. You might not be so keen to indulge him once he suggested you work as his temporary assistant, so he would take what he could until push came to shove.

“Your fingers are icy, Hiro. Come here,” you chided with a click of the tongue, though he knew it was only born of concern for his health. Hiromi hummed happily, grateful when you pressed his palms together with yours on either side and blew hot air to dispel the chill.

“What would I do without you?” He whispered, sitting upright and nudging your nose with his when you glanced at him. Hiromi’s eyes drooped, heat dusted his cheeks at the proximity, and when you let out an airy giggle… he swore he swooned all over again. Just as he had when he first met you and fell in love.

He doubted he would be in the position he was today had it not been for you. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he would be here at all if he hadn’t met you when he did, but that was a story for another day.

You admired the side profile of your husband, eyes low and hazy with appreciation of his strong jaw and prominent nose that hooked just so at the end. “Good thing you’ll never have to know.”

Hiromi groaned aloud, burying his face between the soft skin of your décolleté. His cool lips skimmed the tops of your breasts, first on one side then turning to the other, making you shudder and hum. Your fingers threaded through his black hair, tugging firmly at the roots just how he liked, and his hips jerked in response.

A great fuck and a good night’s sleep would fix him, you were certain of it. It wouldn’t resolve his work issue, but Hiromi worked better with a clear mind, and you knew it was murky as bog water right now. Your man was a brilliant lawyer, dedicated to working towards a more just legal system for those normally underrepresented along with his partner, but he was a terrible workaholic.

You couldn’t count the nights he traipsed home from the office at an ungodly hour only to drag his tired body into his home office to continue where he left off. Only coming to bed when you physically dragged him away from his keyboard and desk with threats of pain and not the kind he typically enjoyed.

It couldn’t be easy to be his assistant, though you knew damn well that he was a good man. The poor girl probably had enough of the endless expectations and incessantly long hours which were necessary to get through all of his demands because he refused to finish at five like normal people. On the few occasions you’d stopped by his office, you could see the fraught expression written all over her young face and how her eyes pleaded with you to distract her boss enough so she could catch up with the mountain of requests waiting for her attention. Poor girl…

Ready to go to town on your poor overworked and stressed husband, you rocked your pelvis against the seam of his zipper, pushing his head further into your chest whilst his cock twitched and hardened beneath you. Hiromi practically purred, the sound muffled and vibrated right down into your soul. The possibilities were endless, and you were considering if you should slide to the floor and bathe his cock in your spit or ride him until all that wicked tension left his body when he suddenly paused.

His hands moved to your waist, the pressure firmer than expected and he gently slid you back along his knees so you were no longer planted over his poorly concealed erection. The flicker of guilt burnt in his whisky-smoked eyes, and it soured your smile. Hiromi shook his head and exhaled deeply, his eyes flitting away from yours.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered.

“You… can’t fuck your wife?” Your voice broke into a laugh that had nothing to do with amusement and everything to do with the bitter twist of uncertainty in your stomach. “Since when?”

“Don’t say that. I want to, but I need to ask you something first.” Hiromi cupped your face in his hands, leaning in to press what he hoped were reassuring kisses to your forehead, cheeks and lips. “Then you can decide if you still wanna… y’know.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion forming like a snake ready to strike, and your arms folded tightly across your chest. He swallowed nervously, struggling not to ogle your beautiful breasts that he would be fully buried in by now and likely suckling on had it not been for his damned conscience.

“Spit it out, Higuruma.”

Oh, he was in trouble.

Hiromi cleared his throat and fixed you with a beseeching look. “Will you be my assistant?” He rushed on when you visibly bristled. “It’s only for two weeks until the agency can find me a replacement and, and… it was Kento’s idea!”

“Throwing Kento under the bus isn’t going to save your hide, Mr Higuruma!” You slid sideways onto the couch, ignoring the groan of disappointment from beside you. “You know very well I am in the midst of my PhD. How could you think it would be feasible for me to come work in your office as an errand girl for a fortnight?”

“Well… I have a plan,” he said, both pointer fingers coming together as he continued to give you the best impression of those adorable dogs with the droopy eyes.

When he didn’t elaborate immediately, your eyebrows rose and you nudged his knee with yours.

“R-right. I know you’ve been writing your paper here at home. So, I thought that maybe I could also work from home. You could help me out and continue your work in between the things I need.”

Dammit, that wasn’t quite the terrible idea you had initially anticipated. You eyed your husband from head to toe, and he desperately tugged at your folded arms until he could take your hands into his. He kissed across your knuckles, nuzzling his cheek, rough from a faint five o’clock shadow, into the back of your hands.

“Hiromi…” you warned, but he was almost too overjoyed to hear his given name once more to heed the warning in your voice.

“Two weeks. That’s all. And I promise not to ask for too much, only the absolute necessities that I can’t manage myself. Please?”

How could you deny him when he asked so sweetly and especially when you knew just how under the cosh he was with his upcoming trial? It would only interfere with your deadlines if he didn’t uphold his promises, but you chose to believe that he would. After all, Hiromi was rather keen on keeping his balls attached to his body.

“Fine, but you owe me.”

The first week went by without incident. It was an adjustment, to say the least, but once you found your feet and Hiromi got used to not having to leave at the arse crack of dawn, it was rather lovely to see more of your handsome husband.

Being able to sit down at the small kitchen table to eat lunch together was a daily treat, and it filled you with triumph when he would eagerly seek you out in the kitchen with his nose sniffing out whatever delicious treat you had prepared that day. Ensuring Hiromi ate during the working day was, more often than not, a struggle, with several text messages bouncing back and forth until he acquiesced–but not now.

Maybe it was the lure of stolen kisses or the giggles shared when you called him Mr Higuruma, breathlessly pressing your body into his and squealing playfully when he pawed at your backside in turn.

You’d be lying if you weren’t enjoying the pseudo roleplay of boss and subordinate. Playing pretend with a power balance that didn’t translate to your relationship outside this current scenario. There was no top or bottom, no dominant or submissive, just two people enraptured by each other. Sometimes you led, and other times he did. Your marriage was well-balanced, and you loved that about Hiromi. He wasn’t threatened by a woman that initiated, in fact, he loved it—loved you. So this new experience, where he was large and in charge at all times, was certainly thrilling, but not everything was smooth sailing.

Hiromi was demanding, to say the least. When he was engrossed in a specific piece of work, he had a way of speaking that made you want to smack him round the head with one of his many manila folders, preferably one of the thicker ones.

No wonder his assistant had quit if he regularly spoke to her in the clipped manner you had heard on more than several occasions now. Only your intimate knowledge of the man kept your tongue in your head and your hand away from the folders. Niceties were time-consuming when he was against the clock. He didn’t mean to be cold, and you told yourself this over and over, but it still hurt, just a little.

Higuruma could get used to this.

He idly wondered how he would feasibly make the transition back to office working once this temporary fix came to an end. He didn’t miss his morning commutes, the packed trains that felt like being crammed into sardine tins, nor the chill of the office before the heating had a chance to warm the rooms sufficiently.

It was a treat to be able to roll out of bed and right into his desk chair. If he wanted to start at 6am, he could, though you would chastise him thoroughly if he dared to. He knew you liked your morning snuggles, and so did he. Waking slowly to your soft snores which he liked to call purrs, and soaking in the smell of your sleep-soaked skin whilst his hands roamed every inch of your softness he could reach. It made it easier to escape the clutches of sleep, knowing you were waiting for him.

However, the star attraction of the current situation was you. Never had he cast an appreciative eye over one of his assistants, not even before he met you, but you were his wife, and he couldn’t help but gawk at his sheer dumb luck. There was something altogether forbidden about the fantasies in his head which, of course, made them all the more alluring.

The first few days at home he had stayed in comfortable clothing, favouring the sweats he’d wear around the house on the weekends and his old college sweater, but quickly, he realised that this didn’t work for him. He needed the structure of his routine even if he wasn’t venturing past his front door, so the suits returned—starched collars and a black tie at his throat. As if to match his energy, you started to dress formally too, and what a treat that was.

Pencil skirts that he didn’t think he’d ever seen, blouses that nipped in your waist, pinafore dresses that swished around your thighs and most decadent of all–lace-topped stockings.

You were driving him to distraction, and the worst of it was that he was certain you didn’t realise. It made him sound shorter than he liked, his words coming out clipped, and his pleasantries sounded cursory rather than heartfelt. You were doing your best to accommodate his needs whilst still working on your paper, and here he was, wishing to bend you over his desk to run his nose and mouth over your squidgy thighs, the meat of your backside and the seat of your underwear until it soaked through with his saliva.

By the time the second week rolled around, Higuruma was a volcano, ready and raring to erupt at the slightest breeze or incident. The lunchtime kisses were no longer satiating his desires, nor were the evenings spent worshipping at the altar of your puffy, spit-covered pussy. It wasn’t enough to scratch this very specific itch.

“I’ve made the copies you asked for, Hiromi. I’ve also updated your calendar with the pre-agenda meeting that came through from the opposing side. Was there anything else for now?”

Hiromi audibly moaned when your wrist grazed his fingers, setting down the documents in question and lingering by his side, waiting for an answer. He tugged sharply at the knot of his tie, feeling choked for air—starved of logic.

As he glanced up at you, he paused. Your bottom lip was held fast between your teeth, eyes positively alight with playful mischief. So maybe you were more aware of the thick-as-sticky treacle tension than he gave you credit for. He fixed the cuffs of his shirt in an attempt to mask the shake of his hands, setting his pen down before leaning back in his chair. It creaked in protest, and you raised a hand to stifle a laugh.

“Actually, there is something else, and it cannot be put off a moment longer,” he drawled with a tone that suggested he was going to dictate a letter or something equally menial.

You were not expecting him to spin his chair towards you and yank you down by the arm into his lap. The shriek that left you was genuine, only silenced towards the end by the firm melding of warm, insistent lips. His hands were everywhere and all at once; squeezing the tops of your arms, ripping at the buttons that hid your cleavage from him and skimming beneath the tight hold of your skirt until it rucked around your hips.

There was such urgency to his movements that you struggled to catch up, but finally, you broke apart from his mouth, saliva strands webbing and breaking apart as your tongue passed through them and across your swollen lips. “Mr Higuruma! What would your wife say?”

It was meant as a spicy joke, a nod to the little games that had been at play and the dynamic the two of you had fallen into, but you sensed immediately that it didn’t go over well. He stopped fumbling with the buttons of your blouse, half of them free from their holes and the lace of your bra now prominently on show, breasts firmly squeezed together given the constraints of the material.

“I-I would… never. I mean…” You watched the desire in his eyes shift to panic, and you shushed him with a finger over his lips. Your heart ricocheted in your chest at the sincerity, and if you believed you couldn’t love him any more than you already did, it proved untrue when you witnessed the devotion that shone in those whisky-coloured eyes.

“I know. It’s okay,” you murmured, closing the distance and trailing your lips over his jaw and up to his ear. “I like it… keep going, please?”

Oh gods, how could he have ever deserved a woman like you in his life? Hiromi whimpered, his eyebrows pinched together, and he felt that final strand of restraint snap clean in two. His lip trembled for a second before he was on you again. Hungry kisses pathed down your throat, a hand at the back of your head to keep you close and manoeuvre you exactly as he wanted.

You scrabbled at his tie, pulling it free with a whip crack until you could toss it behind you and return your focus to his shirt so you could scratch at his chest and leave red welts across his skin.

“No.” The frantic lawyer shook his head, pressing his fingertips over the fresh mark he’d sucked into your neck simply to watch you whine from the pressure of the blooming bruise. “Belt, now.”

Jumping at the ragged command that rasped from Hiromi’s throat, you complied without teasing or complaint. Working the tail of his leather belt through the buckle and sighed at the clatter of the metal when it rattled free to join his tie somewhere unseen in the room.

“Fuck… take it out, please.”

He didn’t wait for you to say anything, nor did he wait for you to pop his top button or lower his zip. He was too focused on freeing your bountiful tits and taking them into his mouth. Your eyes raised to the heavens when his hot needy tongue licked around your nipple, the lace cups shoved down to push your breast up and into his face.

For long moments, you only watched as he laved you with his spit, lips drawn around your pert buds to elicit that deep-seated squirm of pleasure that echoed between your thighs. Hiromi lifted his gaze to your face, making sure you watched as he sandwiched your breast together with his broad palms so he could suckle both nipples at once. Your jaw slackened, your stomach sucked in, and your hips undulated atop his thighs.

It invigorated the tightness of your hold on his cock, drawing it out of his briefs followed by his heavy balls to stroke him hard and fast. He could take it, you knew that, his purpled cockhead sticky from precum that painted your fingers and palm. You paused with his foreskin pulled back, fingers ringing his base to use your other hand to tickle the seam of his balls. He jerked up with a muffled grunt, a resounding pop echoing in the study when his lips pulled free of your breasts.

“Need you, Sir. Please, want this,” you paused to squeeze his shaft in emphasis, “Inside me.”

“Little fucking temptress, you know that? Should’ve bent you over this desk days ago…” He growled against your collarbone, marking it with his teeth.

Higuruma stood abruptly. You squealed and anchored an arm around his neck, refusing to give up your possessive grab of his throbbing dick. He turned and shoved the back of his chair flush against the edge of his desk to stabilise it before dropping you into the leather seat and folding your legs back to your chest.

His rough fingers pinched into the fat of your thighs, fiddling with the sticky bands of your lace stockings and damn near ripped them. You would have complained had it not been for the raw emotions written all over Hiromi’s face, his eyes fixed on the seat of your underwear and the obvious stain that was caused by his ministrations.

Bending his knees to drop closer to you, he savoured your mouth with his tongue pushing past the seam of your lips to curl over your teeth. He filled his hands with the fat of your ass, pulling the cheeks apart and massaging the roundness with little gentleness. It was all you could do to moan, the sounds swallowed greedily only to be replaced by a pleading keen when he tugged your underwear away from your cunt. The fabric bunched around your knees, and you assumed he’d move back to remove them fully, but he didn’t. Instead, he twisted the material until it was tight around the bend of your knees, pinning you in place.

His long slender fingers stroked your pretty slit, coming away with remnants of your arousal and using it to mix with his precum that continued to weep onto your hand. Hiromi’s head sagged forward, black hair falling into his eyes as a long string of saliva fell from what he’d gathered behind his teeth to your sensitive clit. He smeared it around the bundle of nerves, scissoring his fingers until he could tug it feverishly.

“Hiro… fuck me already. Goddammit, I’m gonna blow,” you whined, painfully aware that you were dangling by a thread.

You helped him lead his cock to your entrance, tapping it against your folds to see the tendons in his neck strain and giving you some semblance of smug satisfaction. When he finally notched where you needed him most, your breathing was coming so rapidly you faintly worried you might pass out from this. The air was so thick you struggled to inhale, drowning in this faux forbidden tryst.

He groaned, long and low. His nose nudged into your warm cheek as he bent even lower and pushed into your velvet heat. “That’s it. This pretty pussy is sucking me in—fuck—oh, you like that?” He teased, his hips drawing back only to plunge in again, and deeper this time when he felt you clench around him.

You gripped his forearms, head lolling against the headrest when his cock reached your depths, and the coarse midnight patch of hairs at his pelvis rubbed delicious friction into your pert little pearl.

“Mhm… mhm. Keep going. Don’t stop.”

Higuruma could have laughed at the absurdity of your words. What made you think he could stop even if he wanted to? You were hugging him too perfectly, pulling him back in each time he withdrew his hips. The rhythmic pap of his full-to-bursting balls against the split of your ass rocketed him closer and closer to the finish point, enough so that he fisted the base of his dick to stave off his looming orgasm. He wasn’t ready for this to end, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop either.

The tails of his shirt escaped his trousers and obscured the view of his cock disappearing into your warm cunt, and he growled in frustration. You were so close to the precipice of your orgasm that you didn’t realise why he was growling, only moaning at the primal noise and clenching down hard enough that Hiromi’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Releasing his hold on your thighs, he grinned wolfishly at the imprints of his fingertips on the backs of your legs. With his heart pounding rapidly, he ripped his shirt up his torso and gripped the material between his teeth. His cock sawed in and out at a pace that was losing its rhythm at an alarming rate.

He’d never looked like this before, crazed with desire and burning heat covering the apples of his cheeks. The whisky smoke in his eyes was barely visible due to how blown out his pupils were, and you lifted a hand to caress his cheek. His eyes cut to you, hips rotating whilst buried against your cervix, and with a sharp nod, he asked you to cum for him. His thumb sought out your clit, working it from side to side whilst his balls drew painfully tight and the first lick of molten heat dripped at the base of his spine.

Your eyes rolled over, limbs going lax and pliant pinned between the chair and his body. Your toes curled within your stockings, thighs trembling and butterflying open onto the arms of the chair. Hiromi rode out your high, slowing himself just so, but he couldn’t hold back for too long.

With a willpower that shocked him, he pulled out at the last moment and pumped himself until thick viscous spurts of cum shot across your exposed breasts and stained the blouse covering your stomach. He convulsed so intensely his knees nearly buckled, long drawn-out whimpers ripping from his throat, and you watched it all through hooded, blissed-out eyes.

Hiromi sagged forward, his forehead pressed against yours as he fought to catch his breath. His cock twitched as it softened, the sensation worsened by your toying little fingers exploring his sensitive skin and rubbing the mixture of his and your arousal into his pelvis and across his balls. He didn’t know what to say. The fantasy lived out was so much more than his imagination could conjure, but he still felt a little vulnerable now it was over.

He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and licked over his parched lips. Words caught in his throat, but they were cut off by the trill of his phone on the desk as it vibrated across the wood. You handed it to him with a shy smile, and he answered it after smoothing back his hair.

“Mr Higuruma?”

“S-speaking,” he answered, clearing his throat urgently.

“I’m calling from Clerical Angels. Unfortunately, I have bad news. It is going to be another week before a new assistant can start. I’m sorry for the delay, I know it must be an inconvenience…”

Your eyes widened at the conversation you could hear as clear as day, meeting his steady gaze with cheeks that burned with a combination of mild embarrassment and intrigue. One more week.

“Not at all. I think I can cope, my wife is happy to bend over backwards for me.”

Oh, Hiromi would pay for that comment… but not for at least another week.

#delirious writes #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #higuruma smut #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi smut #jjk higuruma #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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maririna · 1 month

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✧˚ · .Cat Got Your Tongue?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ Dr. Ratio x Reader

> In which you bring home a stray.

Word Count: 1.7k

Mari's Note: So I had this dream with him and a cat and I felt compelled to write something with it lol. Surprisingly, it came out sorta cute than I thought <3

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

"No. Absolutely not, I would not agree to such a proposal."

"Aww, why not?" You raise its paw waving it as if saying hello towards a certain grumpy lover while you support the feline with your free hand, keeping it close to your chest. "I think it'll be beneficial to keep it."

Minutes prior to your arrival, you had overheard high pitched whines directing from a secluded alleyway that was surrounded by stagnant puddles as a result of the dreary rain that just occurred.

Discovering the source, you were met with a surprising sight of a cat in a box, finding solace in the warmth of a battered newspaper, eyes wide and seemingly clueless from the situation it was in. You ofcourse had fallen in love and before you came to your senses, you were already in front of the door with said cat.

It's rather unusual for you to make a grandiose request to Veritas, being satisfied with what you have and had been given, you are never used to asking for anything more. Perhaps it was intuition that struck you and you decided to stick with it.

"What a preposterous idea. I do not need some creature's mouth to feed." Veritas sighs, his hand rubbing his forehead. "Such a despicable thing would have the potential to create chaos and disruption to my work and research."

You raise your eyebrows, "Oh? Who said you'll take care of it? I'll fully take responsibility."

"Please?" You press, "The poor thing must have been starving and besides, we need a friend at home."

"Good grief, have you even acknowledged the fact that the Felis catus species possess only an average IQ of 2?" He sighs as you shoot him a pleading gaze, the cat mewling in your arms, unaware of the doctor's insult.

With a hard look, he huffs and finally gives in.

"Fine, only if you were to provide adequate training, necessities, complete supervision and most significantly, establish proper behavior, I may allow your preposition. However!" he halts. "If it interferes with my research and our house conditions, it's out."

You cheer, scurrying your feet to give a peck on his cheek, following with a stretch of your arms for the cat to do the same except it was met with a palm of his hand. "Oh no, no. Not the animal."

You wont lie, having a new family to the household made things livelier, especially on the days where Veritas had been absent due to the Intelligentsia Guild. The cat had quite a calming effect, you were able to indulge into your work and daily schedule without the rush of anxiety on those same days. With dedicating your free time towards bonding and training the cat, you had also set aside its own space in your humble abode far Veritas's work desk and absolutely further from the intricate stone carvings in the shape of your lover.

You also discovered that your new companion is a lovely and polite tom cat.

Veritas so far (and so good) did not seem to mind, letting the animal even roam around the living room frequently since it was a portion of the home that contained none of his papers and nor does he seem to mind the soft meows requesting for attention or inquiries of the food bowl being filled.

You are currently settled down on your couch with your darling joined with you. His eyes concentrate at a book on hand, the gentle sound of pages being flipped by the featherlight touches of his fingers fills the room alongside the occasional soft purrs of your feline friend who is nestled comfortably onto your lap. Its rhythmic breathing soothes you as you hum in content, nothing but peace and tranquility envelopes the space.

You were interrupted from your thoughts with the sound of Veritas’s book slam shut.

“Have you gotten accustomed to the new addition to our household? I am not one who engages nor enjoys the affection and sentimentality derived from owning a domesticated animal, however in your case, you seem to say otherwise.”

“Does it seem obvious?”

You focus on feeling the softness of the cat’s fur as you carefully thread it with your fingers. His ears twitch from your intrusion, eyes shot open like he was not asleep just a second ago, he lets out a yawn, flexing his back into a wide stretch with a flick of a tail. He jumps from your lap to the couch, kneading it. You grin, muttering a totally unapologetic ‘sorry’.

The cat strolls over, a faint purr rumbling from his chest as he begins nuzzling against Veritas's thigh who visibly flinches. You notice his hand almost ready to raise, only to have it actually end up meeting upon the animal’s head which meows in delight, pressing his muzzle to the palm of your significant other’s hand, rubbing against it.

You see him cringe and tense up but you still credit his effort and beam at the sight. To see him be physically affectionate with the animal was unexpected, deep down you assumed he might have disliked the cat. Maybe he is still foreign with the change.

“I guess so, the cat has been very therapeutic to me if I'm being honest,” you add.

He scoffs, "Although that is something I can never relate to," you don't see it, but his eyes soften a bit.

A hand rests on top of your hair, "If it refines your cognitive performance and brain activity then I would have no objections and no reason not to accept the animal."

Veritas removes his hand and you almost miss the warmth. "Regardless, if he does not come aligned with my terms and conditions–"

"I know I know, geez. The cat has been nothing but a sweetheart." You cut him off and pout, "Isn't that right...?”

You pause.

“Uhm…”

Your partner raises a brow, "...are you implying you had never designated a name for him until now?"

You sweat, "...I haven't"

"Ridiculous."

"Well, it's hard to think of one!" you retort.

"Nonsense. You had already established a bond with him, although I would not necessarily care but I assumed it would have been natural to issue him a name.”

“You think of one then!” you puff your cheeks.

Veritas places his hand under his chin, absorbed in thought. Wait, Is he actually considering it?

“I would rather not. I am in no way having the slightest care over it as I deem it not crucial.”

You stick a tongue out to him, so much for having the tiniest belief from your heart in him. You can't help but deflate, feeling dejected that he doesn't fully welcome the cat as you expected.

For the next few days, you have been brainstorming, stubbornly attempting to choose a name, basking in countless research and books.

"Hmm, I don't like any of these." You groan in exasperation, rummaging through the pages of a book for a potential fit of a name, only to prove you no luck. Cursing under your breath, your face falls flat on the surface of a page.

A name is crucial for a pet, one to call out to, to get attached to, and to bond with, he deserves to have one like every other being. You have asked Veritas for any suggestions or if he can at least help but your actions bear no results.

With heavy defeat, you are forced to drag yourself towards the shelves for the cat's lunch. Geez you can't keep calling him just ‘cat’ forever, can you?

You spot the animal mewling over from the corner of your eye, trying to catch your attention to fulfill his hunger but notice something out of the ordinary.

Huh?

You see that he is wearing...a collar?

He tilts his head curiously, looking at you with doe eyes, meowing once more. You don't recall ever giving him one, only toys and cardboard boxes he seemed to like to conceal himself in all the time.

As you take a closer look, you discover something even more odd. A silver metal hanging around the edges of the leather–a name tag.

Your fingers glaze over the tag, feeling the sturdiness of the material, seeing a word engraved on it.

'Archimedes'.

You couldn't contain the smile that goes up to your face, your heart starts to race with happiness and relief. Only one person would come up with a certain name like this.

It seemed perfect for you, to think that he chose this name seems undoubtedly much like him.

"Just so you are aware, I had scientifically engineered the collar to be a precise fit for him, including the exact millimeters alongside taking consideration of the feline's anatomy and measurements."

Following the sound of a voice, you see the man himself, holding a piece of graph paper of what you assume is a detailed illustration of his creation as he carries himself with elegance and confidence.

"I created it to be comfortable, durable, and lightweight. In addition to that, I installed features that can accurately measure his vitals, from heartbeat to temperature with a built-in system that will notify us if there exists any malfunctions to his vitals."

As much as you are filled with joy and gratitude you couldn’t help but feel the need to go for the tease.

"Oh? I thought you didn't want to keep him? Hm?" your tone is mischievous but playful.

You feign being in deep thought, resting a thumb underneath your chin. "Why is there a collar in him which by the way was specifically made for him by you and named him yourself if you wanted to get rid of him oh so badly?"

"Research indicates having a feline cultivates a productive space for effective studying. I am simply experimenting with Archimedes. It would be favorable in my end to conduct my hypothesis if there is a word for him to respond to." He crosses his arms, his eyes suddenly interested in one of his many statues from the corner of the room.

"Right. Whatever floats your boat.”

“That is known as buoyancy.”

...this man.

You lightly flick his forehead, trying to stop him from speaking any further as to save yourself from being trapped into another one of his hours-long lectures.

“You are a dummy, y’know?” Before he could reply, you wrap your arms around him, his body relaxes, a silent invite for you to continue, feeling the tenderness and warmth of his skin. You brushed off strands of purple locks from his face, giving him a loving kiss.

“Thank you, Veritas."

His eyes refuse to meet yours as he is rendered speechless.

"...Idiot"

"...But honestly, Veritas, you should have just opted for a normal collar."

#honkai star rail #hsr #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio #dr ratio #dr ratio x you #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #honkai star rail x reader #hsr dr ratio

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moonheecore · 4 months

Text

Lover Boy — lhs (m)

Pairing: Boyfriend! Heeseung X Afab! Reader

Genre: Smut🔞 (Minors DNI), college AU, established relationship.

Warnings: Soft Dom! Heeseung, protected sex, consumption of alcohol lots of praising (fem receiving), multiple orgasm, oral (male & female receiving), love making because Heeseung is whipped for you, teasing, cowgirl, dirty talking, Heeseung is both a frat boy and a basketball player which is lethal to the heart, overuse of the word pretty and baby, feat other 01 boy group members, hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else.

Summary: Lee Heeseung, your sweet boyfriend that you have wrapped around your finger. His favoritism towards you didn't escape the notice of his close friends, leading to a well-known moniker they often used when the girlfriend privilege was evident— Lover boy.

Main masterlist

Word count: 5.1k

The atmosphere, combined with the chilly night air, provided a comforting feel. Amid the ongoing frat party, you and a bunch of your circle of friends sought solace on the mansion's back patio, where a warm bonfire painted the scene orange.

You registered the soft sound of your boyfriend’s laughter in the air, watching him and Jeongin joked around with a very drunken Beomgyu across from you. The said male was playing the acoustic guitar carelessly until a visibly annoyed Jaehyuk took the instrument away from the semi-conscious guy.

Lee Heeseung.

The fraternity president, the star and ace player of the school's basketball team, the heartthrob of every girl on campus— and your incredibly attractive boyfriend.

When you said he was effortlessly hot, you meant every word.

He sat there, clad in his usual outfit of a simple black t-shirt and a pair of ripped dark blue jeans, his soft faded purple hair tucked under one of his many collection of beanies. You observed how his dangling earring swayed with each flash of his pearly white teeth, a response to the antics his friends were pulling.

Your eyes trailed to the item hung around his neck, a delicate necklace that he never forgot to pull out of his shirt—your initials carved in silver, proudly displayed for everyone to see.

You felt a bit embarrassed when you gifted him the accessory at first, but you had never seen Heeseung’s doe eyes filled with mellow tenderness as he kept fidgeting the letter with a small smile.

Since then, you’ve never seen him take it off.

A sense of endearment bloomed every time you saw it around his neck. He wore it to his basketball practice, in the shower, to bed— everywhere.

Even in those intimate moments, it dangled above you, the delicate chain brushing against your lips as he thrust into your sopping wet core, fucking you wholeheartedly against the bed sheets; or when you would entangle your fingers between the cold chains, the grip providing the perfect leverage as you ride his cock, the symphony of his encouraging moans blending with the creaking of the bed frame.

You felt almost comical at how shaken you were by a piece of jewelry.

"Hey, are you even listening?" Yunjin's voice cut through your distracted thoughts.

You turned your head to face her, obviously startled. "What?"

Yunjin scoffed, taking a sip from her red cup. "If you don't stop eye-fucking your boyfriend, I might puke on you."

“I was not!”

Yunjin raised an eyebrow at your answer, clearly unimpressed. You closed your mouth in silent embarrassment, hugging Heeseung's jacket around your body tighter. The waft of his cologne gave you a piece of mind.

You sighed in defeat, "—okay, fine, maybe I was, alright. Is that a crime now?” Yunjin's expression softened, and she nudged you playfully, finding your annoyed yet adorable expression to be one that lit amusement.

“Well, I guess you're in some kind of luck, girl. He is looking right back at you."

You blinked, surprised, and turned to see Heeseung gazing back at you with a fond smile across the bonfire. The orange hue from the flame seemed to accentuate the way his eyes lowered down before locking onto yours again, as if he was drinking in the sight of you. He raised his eyebrows enticingly, patting his lap like a signal for you to join him.

A blush crept onto your cheeks.

"You're having too much fun with this," you remarked, getting up from your seat as Yunjin's playful laughter filled the air as you left.

God, you hate it when she has then upper hand. But you hate it even more when you feel like a giddy middle schooler while heading towards your boyfriend.

His gaze stayed fixed on you throughout, leaning back on his seat to create a comfortable space for you to settle on his lap, both legs elegantly positioned on one side. You feel his hands immediately on your body— one securing your back, while the other gently on your bare knee.

Heeseung was so warm that you instantly melt in his embrace, resting the side of your head against his shoulder. You fought against every instinct, refraining from burying your face in his neck. It was as if the lingering scent of his sweet cologne on the jacket he gave you at the party's start wasn't sufficient to satisfy the yearning within you.

"Are you cold?" He asked, already taking a blanket to drape over your exposed legs. You stared at his side profile, letting out a soft hum at his attentiveness. He glanced down at you, only to find you already staring back.

Gosh, you could drown yourself in his eyes.

"Hi," He whispered, as if having you in his arms was the most casual thing.

"Hi," You breathed out shyly, wrapping your arms around his neck to shorten the distance between your faces.

The both of you struggled to contain your laughter at the exchange. The noise of your friends and the crackling bonfire seemed to fade away as you locked eyes with each other.

“You look really cute tonight.” You blurt out, feeling his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your knee under the covers.

He raised his eyebrow in feigned offence. “Cute?”

There was a mischievous glint in his expression, and it was impossible to ignore as he leaned down to boldly fix his gaze on your lips.

"Not hot?" he questioned, your breath hitching as his fingers traced up your legs, ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. It made your heart race, especially considering he was doing it discreetly with people still around.

"Or sexy?”

You bit down on your lower lip, trying to contain the small moan coming out when he cups your clothed cunt. Heeseung observed every scrunch of your face, feeling your fingers tugging at the hairs on his nape and the way you pressed your thighs together, curling inwards towards his body.

Heeseung wished he could tease you even more, relishing in your adorable reactions. However, he could feel himself getting worked up too, forcing him to whisper against your ear.

“Let’s go to my room, yeah?”

You nodded quietly against his shoulder. He shifted to grab the blanket and laid it on the empty chair, prompting you to stand up and fix your skirt, which had ridden up during his little ministration.

"Hey," Heeseung called out to Jeongin, intertwining his big hands with yours. "We're heading inside."

"What! Already?" Beomgyu's slurred words cut through the conversation, loud enough for others to hear. "Come on! The party's just about to get started!"

Heeseung looked visibly annoyed as his friend draped an arm around his shoulder. Clearly under the influence of alcohol, he glanced over Heeseung’s shoulder, catching sight of your connected hands and the noticeable flush on your cheeks.

"Ohhh, I see why you're leaving early," Beomgyu said with a massive grin on his face and wiggling his eyebrows.

"Heeseung, you fucking dog! Lover boy getting his dick nice and wet tonight—“

Before Beomgyu could continue, Jeongin smacked his palm over his mouth from behind to stifle the rest of his sentence, holding him in a headlock. He signaled to Heeseung to go and shot you an apologetic look as well.

But the damage was done, and you shyly lowered your head as Heeseung pulled you away where people were whistling and howling in your direction as you past by.

"God, I was about to sacrifice him in the fire if he didn't stop yapping."

You giggled as he grumbled under his breath, reaching the steps of the patio. He opened the back door, ushering you inside the house where the party showed no signs of slowing down even in the wee hours of the night.

The thumping bass of the music reached your ears as you walked down the hallway, navigating through drunken students flowing between the dancefloor in the living room and the kitchen stocked with an abundance of alcohol.

The tight space between the sweaty figures made you feel claustrophobic, but the reassuring touch of Heeseung's fingers laced with yours and your other hand holding onto the belt loops of his pants kept you from getting lost in the sea of crowds.

Heeseung has always made his strong presence felt by you.

He always ensured you walked on the side away from the road, poured and guarded your red cup when you were away, stayed sober to drive you home, rested his hands at the back pocket of your pants when you walk together or when he would wait for you patiently outside of the restroom when you felt unwell.

His favoritism towards you didn't escape the notice of his close friends, leading to a well-known moniker they often used when the girlfriend privilege was evident—

Lover boy.

Your lover boy, the man who was pinning you against the door of his bedroom, one hand on your waist and the other cupping your jawline, kissing your lips deeply the moment he locked the doors.

You opened your mouth slightly, allowing his hot tongue to explore the cavern of your mouth. The intensity made you tangle your fingers in his soft hair, eliciting light moans and groans from both of you that he gladly swallowed down.

You weren't sure if you were tipsy from the alcohol or his taste because you started to feel fuzzy in the head.

“Is my hair in the way?” He questioned, sounding a little out of breath once he broke the kiss.

He rest his forehead against yours, the bridge of your noses grazing each other at the proximity. You chuckled softly, pushing back the lone strands of his hair that escaped when you pulled his beanie off.

“Yeah, a little bit.”

You licked his bottom lip sensually, mesmerized by the way it glistened with saliva. Heeseung bent down to capture your lips again swiftly, his heart going wild with what you did, circling your waist to pull you flush against his body.

You weren't going to lie; you felt out of breath, getting lost in the rhythm of his mouth moving hungrily. But you didn't want to stop, going insane with the way his hands were slowly smoothing down your body.

"You look beautiful in this skirt," he murmured, pressing a kiss at the corner of your lips before switching to your jawline and down your neck.

“I wore it just for you…” You admitted, sighing softly when he nib and suck at the sensitive spot of your neck, holding his hair tighter when he moved to knead the back of your thighs.

"Is that why it's so short?"

You felt him smirk against your neck, letting out a sudden gasp when his hands moved under your skirt to grope an ample amount of your bare ass.

"Hmm? Planning to seduce me with your slutty ass out for everyone to see.”

Now your cheeks were on fire.

It was rendering you speechless, with only the ability to weakly shake your head. You couldn't bring yourself to make eye contact with Heeseung as he looked back to gauge your reaction. Doing so would likely leave you feeling weak in the knees.

Heeseung could only smile at your cute reaction, especially when you tried your best to hold back your moans but failed.

“Naughty girl, but I guess it work, right?" Heeseung drove his point home when he took one of your hands, gently guiding you to palm his semi-hard cock through his pants.

He let out a shaky sigh when you knead firmly along his thick length. "Feel how hard I am for you, baby. Only you can make me feel like this."

Heeseung let out small whiny moans as his head fell to rest on your shoulder, bucking his hips shamelessly in your hand as his cock grew heavy, a tight dent forming at the front of his pants.

You felt the familiar pooling of wetness gathering, both at the base of your tongue and between your thighs.

“Seungie,” You call out, pulling on the bands of his pants shyly with half lidded eyes and swollen lips courtesy of him. “Can I suck you off, please?”

Holy shit, he could get a cardiac arrest with the way you said it with so much lust.

"I’d love that," he grinned, leading you to his bed as he sat at the edge, pulling his shirt off to exposed his ripped body.

You promptly went on your knees between his legs, causing him to caress his thumb over your cheek as you fiddled with his buttons and zipper before pulling his pants and boxers down, swiftly releasing him from the tight confinement.

Your mouth watered at the sight of his beautiful cock lying hard against his abs, the head already aching and red with pre-cum leaking at the tip. The sight of his tight balls entice you even more, leading you to kiss them first before sucking gently on the flesh.

"So eager, baby." He cooed, using one hand to lean back on the mattress while the other rest on the crown of your head. "Just like that pretty girl, fuck—"

He rasped out a loud moan when you licked a long stripe up along his length before swiftly engulfing his head in your mouth. Heeseung felt absolutely winded at the sight of you stuffing your cheeks full of his cock, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn't get in the way of the sight.

You started to bob your head, smoothly pumping his length in and out past your lips. You jerk his remaining length expertly while your other hand fondle with his balls.

"So pretty like this, taking me so well. Bet you've been thinking about fucking your mouth in my big cock the whole night, right, baby?" He smiled down at you.

You were so drunk with his taste that you could only hum in response, swirling your tongue around his tip before dipping it into his slit. Heeseung instinctively tug your hair, pulling your face closer until your nose was touching his pelvis as you tried to accommodate him beyond your usual capacity.

You knew his most sensitive spot— slurping on his bulbous head while you slid your tongue along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock as much as possible.

"Ah god, fuck, baby, that's it." He whines, thrusting into your mouth, pushing his cock until it hits the back of your throat repeatedly. Your jaws were aching, but you fight the urge to gag by hollowing your cheeks, letting him use your mouth free to his will.

You didn't care that drool was spilling at the corner of your mouth or that the corners of your eyes were starting to sting with tears. Heeseung was at the mere edge of his release and your clit was throbbing to even think about him spilling his seed into your mouth.

"Y/N, fuck—“ You could hear the rawness of desperation in his voice, chest heaving. The hand gripping on the back of your head turned rough as he sloppily pistons his hips forward that almost make you choke.

"Gonna cum in your mouth, baby girl. Gonna fill you up nice and good down your throat until all you taste is me."

And you’ll gladly let him, feeling his head twitch a few times against the roof of your mouth before he release the tension in his shoulder, lurching forward and swearing loudly as ropes of his white cum coat your entire oral region.

Despite feeling light-headed, you continue riding him of his orgasm as you swallow down his hot load and lick him clean. In fact, it made Heeseung shudder in pure pleasure, wiping down your smudge eye linear with a gleeful expression.

"Sorry, are you okay? I seriously couldn’t hold back…”

He sheepishly apologized, smoothing down your tousled hair as you rested your head against his thigh.

"...and I came a lot." He mumbled, and you giggled at the way he turned bashful when just a second ago, he was rolling his eyes while shoving his shaft down your throat.

“It’s fine.” You reassured him. Heeseung wanted to plunge himself into your mouth again when your wipe the excess cum at the corner of your lips, licking it without a second thought.

"You taste absolutely delicious."

You began to kiss the dips of his v-line, holding onto his thighs as you move to tongue at his navel. You could feel his stomach tense up as you lick the valley of his abs, trailing up and standing on your feet to reach his neck and jaw before settling on kissing his lips.

You circled your hands around his neck firmly, thumb pressing on the prominent swell of his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t you think a good girl like me deserves to be rewarded?” You look at him with those dreamy eyes he can’t refuse, or maybe that was just the afterglow of sucking his cock that makes you look irresistible under the bedroom lights.

Heeseung's hands slipped under your shirt, gently tracing your waist, sending shivers down your spine.

“Maybe if she strips down for me I’ll consider.” He purred, doe eyes darken with lust. "Get naked for me, baby, and I promise to make you feel incredible."

If the arousal trickling down your thighs wasn't a clear sign of your longing, the fact that you promptly followed his command under his hungry gaze certainly speaks volumes.

"Fucking beautiful," he whispered as you peeled off your bra, licking his bottom lip as he watched your breasts bounce free. Now, you were left in only your skimpy panties.

"The most prettiest girl in the world." He lament, pulling you closer and situating you between his legs, your exposed breasts now right in front of his face. Your tits were hardening as he firmly grasped one of them.

"—and I get to have you all to myself."

You instantly crumbled when he captures a nipple between his pouty lips, suckling on the hard nub until you feel the pressure on your skin. His other hand toyed with the other perky breast, kneading it and ensuring it received the same attention as he pinched it between his fingers.

"Feels so good, seungie..." You moaned out, your fingers found purchase in his hair again as you arch your back when he switch to engulf the other nipple with moist kisses.

"Fuck...love it when you use your tongue on me." You were shaking your head, body trembling when he kept nibbling and lapping at your sensitive nipples, coating them with his thick saliva.

"I know, baby." He gazes up at you with a knowing expression, leaving bite marks on the swell of your breast. "Think you can handle it if I eat your pretty little pussy?"

Fuck, no, you don’t think so.

To many people on the outside, he has the sweetest pair of lips, always complementing and giving you lovey-dovey kisses in public. But behind the scenes, his dirty mouth never stops moving on your body, and you know for a fact that his tongue is the spawn of the devil. It won't end until every drop of your arousal coated his taste buds, and you crying for him to stop.

But you fear you might go insane if the ache between your legs isn't relieved soon, succumbing everything you have to him.

"Yes, please, I need you now." You urged.

Heeseung laugh softly, a big smile plastered on his face.

"C'mere, baby. Get on the bed and lay down for me."

He instructs, standing up and turning you both around so that you're pressed against the bed.

He took a pillow to gently tuck it beneath your head, making sure you were laying down in a comfortable position. You were observing every move he made impatiently, and he took obvious notice of that.

“You look like I’ve already made you cum,” He teased.

Blushing at his words, you watched as he settled to spread your legs open. The sight made his cock twitch, the damp patch of fabric clinging to your folds, outlining the curves of your lips. He could already imagining how swollen and soak you were, and he haven't even properly touch you yet.

"You're so wet, baby," He praised, peeling your panties from your pussy. "Are you sure you haven't cum yet?"

You shake your head, spreading your knees wider for him to tug off your panties from your ankle. "No, I wanted to wait for you."

"Such a good girl."

Heeseung seemed satisfied with your response, especially when he could confirm that you weren't lying. Your pussy was slick with arousal, and your clit looked engorged to the touch. He was sure it was courtesy of you humping the carpet floor when you were on your knees for him.

Heeseung laid on his stomach, hooking his arms behind your thighs. It was like a wet dream, having his head between you legs and feeling the heat radiating from his breath as he drew closer to your bare cunt. You fingers entangled itself in his soft locks when he blew on your sensitive clit.

"Heeseung, please don't tease— ngahhh.”

The words died in your mouth the moment he licked a stripe of your core, as if to test the waters before fully lapping on your wet folds. You lifted your hips, hearing the slurping sounds of his lips smacking around your cunt. His button nose pressed on your clit so deliciously that you hoped the loud noise from the party was drowning the even louder cries of pleasure escaping from your throat.

"yes, yes, fuck, faster." There was the familiar knot blooming in your stomach, the one that was growing the more Heeseung prob the tip of his tongue in and out of your lose slit.

A soft groan emits from him, driven by the way you would roughly scrape your nails on his scalp as you start grinding on his face feverishly. His chin is dripping with drool and your arousal, your sweet scent and taste overwhelming his mind, causing him to quicken his pace and latch his lips onto your clit.

He flattened his tongue on the pearl, flicking it back and forth, face pressed deeply between your thighs until you were a convulsing mess on his bed.

Your abdomen was pulsing erratically, your walls clenching over nothing as you released the torment you had kept. An orgasm washed over you like cold icy water, throwing your head back as Heeseung's tongue continued to coax every bit of your climax until he was satisfied. He was going down on you, making sure to clean every crevice that he might have missed, even when you were weakly whining that it was too much.

He was fucking pussy drunk. There was no other explanation for him literally drinking you up right now.

"You're such a cute mess.” He was peppering your inner thighs with kisses, watching you squirm from the sensitivity every touch on your skin brings. "Always so ready for me to taste."

His sun-kissed skin glowed with sweat, his hair attractively disheveled, while his lips were swollen with a sweet pink hue. He gingerly moved and leaned down to kiss you square on the lips. It was light-hearted, simmering down the intensity of everything that happened before.

He was gentle, holding your jaw tenderly as you both basked in the warmth of your proximity.

"You did so well for me, baby." He bumps his nose against yours. "Think you can keep going?"

It was sweet of him to take note on the exhaustion reigning on your features, but you honestly don’t think the night could be completely over until he fucks your pussy with his cock.

"God, yes,” You nodded, gnawing on your lower lip. "Lemme ride you.”

He wasted no time in positioning himself to sit up, leaning his back on the headboard. You took this as an invitation to sit on his lap as he rummage on his side drawer for a condom.

“Wild berry or bubblegum, what do you think?”

“Heeseung, please just hurry up.”

You snapped, snatching one of the wrappers from his hand.

Heeseung's boyish laughter filled the air, his beautiful smile and his eyes turning a beautiful crescent shape. His silly jokes could never be separated, to the point where you swore he was secretly a masochist for finding joy in seeing you suffer in the most unconventional moments.

You rip the package open with your teeth before rolling it onto his already hard cock that twitches with every friction from your contact. Now, you thought you were the one being needy when he was literally manhandling you to hover over him.

You rest your hand on his broad shoulders. With one hand on your waist and the other wrapped around the base of his cock, he guides the tip to your entrance as you slowly sink down simultaneously.

He rasped out words to encourage you to lower your hips, the loud sounds of both of you moaning in rapture together when he fully bottoms out filled the room.

"Holy shit." Heeseung's head fell to knock on the headboard, his chest going up and down erratically. "You're so fucking tight."

Heeseung's large cock was throbbing inside of you, filling you completely as if he was made for you. The initial discomfort of the stretch slowly fizzled out, and pleasure took over as you craved more of him. You guide his hand to wrap around your waist, moving your hips up and down on his length.

You were absolutely enamored, lifting yourself before sinking back down with a heavy weight, feeling his mushroom tip pressing on the deepest part of your cervix. Your inside were spasming insanely at the hot contact, leaving you to spill a mantras of moans.

You lean back to rest your palms on his thighs, grinding and rolling your hips, hearing the soft creak of the bed as you begin to bounce on his cock sloppily. Heeseung's moaning and panting under his breath, pulling your waist impossibly close when he feels you clench around his girth deliciously.

"You look so hot. What the fuck." Heeseung gasped out, watching your through half lidded eyes.

His view of you was just amazing— your perfect tits bouncing when you slam your hips down at an angle, your wet pussy squeezing him tightly that he could see a white ring of precum collecting at the base of his shaft. Pieces of your hair were stuck to your forehead, your face so fucked out that he could easily cum from this image of you.

"Fuck, Heeseung, touch me."

You alluring voice was like a spell, coaxing him to fondle your breast while his thumb played with your puffy nipples. You continue to overwhelmed him as you move faster, both of his hands slowly glide down to grab your ass cheeks, aiding you to move back and forth on his cock sensually when he notice you slowing down.

"Keep going baby, I love it when you spread your pussy and ride my cock."

You shake your head in desperation, your thighs trembling in exhaustion. "Can't— I can't go on anymore."

You didn't need to say twice, and he was already pulling you to rest on his chest.

"It's okay, baby, I got you." Heeseung holds you by your love handles before he started thrusting up roughly.

It became apparent that both of you were on edge, becoming overly sensitive to each other. Every drag of his cock against your walls throwing both of you into overdrive. While you were holding onto your dear life to stay afloat, Heeseung was becoming addicted to the pleasure, pounding into you until the loud sound of clapping filled the room.

You're not sure anymore whether it was the sound of his thighs or his balls slapping against your ass.

You couldn't focus anymore, not when you were struggling to stay upright as he was balls deep into you. He was so big, so hard that he was practically throbbing against your walls. Not even a second did he slip out, despite the brute speed and strength he was using to rail you repeatedly at your sweet spot.

The burning knot in your stomach was coming back, getting tighter and tighter as he makes a mess in your insides.

"Heeseung." You're voice crack at the end, nails digging at his back. "I— I'm about to fucking cum."

Your mouth opens in a silent scream as you hide your face in his neck, the feeling of his fingers rubbing and pinching on your clit made you clamp harder around him. You chanting his name over and over again only deepen his desire to absolutely ruined you in the best way possible.

"That's it, baby, cum for me." Heeseung nibbled the lobe of your ear, the movement of his hips faltering gradually as he was near his high as well. "I want to see you cum all over my cock like a good girl."

There was a second of pin-drop silence before you slump on his chest, crying and moaning as you feel your second orgasm shaking your body and soul. Heeseung was not far behind you, stuffing your sore slit with one last crash before you could feel his chest vibrate with loud groans, releasing strings of hot semen into the rubber.

The knot in your stomach was untied, losing its overwhelming pressure, and it mixed wonderfully when Heeseung's face morphed into a satisfying glint, his head falling to rest on the headboard.

It feels like a symphony of wonders, the heat of everything blending in from the heavy breathing and the slick dripping down your thighs as Heeseung pull out of you to tie the soiled condom. You close your eyes, ears pressed against his chest as you follow the lullaby of his heartbeat to calm your mind down.

Your hands mindlessly twirl the chains of his necklace, and Heeseung embraces you tighter in his arms. He leans down to place a sweet kiss on your cheeks, pushing back some stray hairs behind your ears. He let out a tender sigh when you snuggle closer, prompting him to trace your back gently with his fingers.

Your legs was sore but you regained your bearings to kiss him, gently humming when you feel him smiling against your lips.

"I love you, Heeseung." You said softly.

He peered down at you, his eyes saying everything without a word as he gave that lovesick expression, admitting that he will forever be—

"I love you too. Always."

—Your lover boy.

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willowbelle · 14 days

Text

Soft Currents

zoro & waking up together

❤︎ roronoa zoro x reader ❤︎

𖤐₊˚.༄ (fluff) 𖤐₊˚.༄

(written with fem reader in mind, but no pronouns mentioned)

cw: soft, sleepy zoro, established relationship, body worship, kissing.

summary: you wake up before zoro & admire him while he sleeps. ♡︎

word count: ~800

tagging: @bby-deerling @eelnoise @3v37773 @laylaloves-ed @shamblespirate @lowkeycasanova @maddddstuff @fanaticsnail @thesunxwentblack

Soft Currents

The blankets cocooning your half-sleeping form provide warmth and comfort, but pale in comparison to the embrace of the swordsman's strong arms holding you close. As the sun timidly emerges from behind wispy sea clouds, its gentle rays lazily filter through the fluttering curtains of your shared bedroom.

You shift gently, turning to behold Zoro as he sleeps, his chiseled features softened only slightly by the delicate dance of morning light.

As you hum softly to yourself, your fingers trace a delicate path along the rhythmic rise and fall of his bare chest. Despite the lightness of your touch, a barely-there graze, the warmth of his skin seeps into your fingertips and sends heat rushing through your veins.

Your fingers continue their languid journey, the remnants of sleep evident in the leisurely pace of your movements as you trace a path from his chest, up the gentle curve of his neck, and along the sharp contours of his jawline.

Eventually, you find yourself drawn closer, your head resting upon his warm, scarred chest. From this intimate vantage point, your curious fingers dance upwards, drawn to the glint of his three dangling gold earrings. Gently toying with each one, you feel the weight of the metal against your skin, admiring the way they catch the morning light and cast delicate reflections across the room.

You find solace in the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat, each thud a reassuring presence, your only companion in the gentle passage of time as Zoro continues to snore softly beneath you.

As the morning progresses, the sunlight begins to assert itself, gradually seeping through the gaps in the fluttering curtains. At first, it's a timid presence, casting faint tendrils of light that dance across the room, painting delicate patterns on the walls and floor. But the golden rays grow bolder with each passing moment, gradually intensifying in both warmth and luminosity as you continue to gently caress the swordsman’s toned figure.

You trace the lines of his strong jaw, marveling at the rugged masculinity softened by the morning light. Your fingers linger over his faint scars, marks that tell silent stories of battles won and challenges overcome, each imperfection a testament to his strength and resilience.

Brushing aside a stray lock of his green hair to reveal the serene expression on his sleeping face; there’s a vulnerability in his slumber, a stark contrast to the fierce warrior you know him to be. Yet, it’s in these quiet moments between linens that you find yourself most captivated, cherishing the intimacy of sharing this space with him.

As the sun ascends higher in the sky, its brilliance becomes more pronounced, bathing the room in a soft, ethereal glow. The once-muted colors of the furnishings come alive under its touch, infused with a radiant warmth that fills the space with a sense of vitality.

As the sunlight gently caresses his face, Zoro's eyes begin to flutter open, the warm glow of morning coaxing him from his slumber.

He stirs a bit, still in the midst of waking, before turning to you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he meets your gaze.

It's a fleeting sight; his first and potentially only smile of the day, but one you cherish dearly, for it radiates with unparalleled genuineness. It's a smile upon waking, perhaps the most authentic expression one can offer.

With a soft yawn, he turns to face you, intertwining his fingers with yours as he gazes sleepily into your eyes. A contented smile graces his lips before he speaks, his voice still laced with drowsiness,

“Been awake for long?”

As he shifts closer, you feel the warmth of his touch, a gentle reassurance in the quiet of the morning. Only then do you mimic his yawn, as if just waking up yourself, a subtle guise to conceal the moments you spent admiring him while waiting for him to awaken.

"Mm, no," you murmur softly, "just woke up, too," the white lie slips effortlessly from your lips before you press a tender kiss against his.

His lips turn upwards into a smile against yours, a gentle heat radiating from his blushing face.

As you pull away, his gaze flickers down to where your fingers had been playing with his earrings earlier, a playful glint dancing in his eyes.

"You know, if you keep fiddling with those, I might just have to get you a pair” he teases.

A deep, red-hot blush rushes to your cheeks as he squeezes your hand in acknowledgement, making you tug the sheets over your head in embarrassment.

He chuckles and ruffles your hair through the blankets,

“Then maybe you won't have to be so sneaky with your admiration, hmm?”

648 notes · View notes

nayziiz · 4 days

Text

Comfort Person | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

Attending the McLaren gala marked a significant step forward in their relationship. For a whole year, they had carefully cultivated their love away from the prying eyes of the public, choosing to keep their affection shielded from the spotlight. Their social media presence, though scant, hinted at a deeper connection, evident through the occasional birthday mentions and celebratory nods to his triumphs on the racetrack.

But this gala was different. It was a statement, a declaration of their commitment, and a subtle unveiling of their love to the world. While their relationship had been an open secret among close friends and those within the inner circle of the Formula 1 world, this event would bring it to a broader audience.

For her, agreeing to attend the gala was both exciting and nerve-wracking. Stepping into the glamorous world of Formula 1, filled with its high-profile personalities and dazzling events, was a departure from her usual realm. She had only dipped her toes into this world on three occasions, each time experiencing the thrill of the races in Monaco, Belgium, and Silverstone. Yet, despite her limited exposure to the paddock, she found herself drawn to the adrenaline-fueled atmosphere and the magnetic pull of his passion for the sport.

Her demanding career imposed limitations on her ability to accompany him to every race and event, forcing her to carefully select which ones she could attend. Despite the constraints of her professional obligations, she was determined to be there for him in whatever capacity she could manage.

For him, her unwavering support transcended physical presence. Knowing that she would wake up in the early hours of the morning or stay up late into the night to watch his races brought him immense comfort and strength. Her dedication, even from afar, served as a source of motivation during the most gruelling moments on the track.

In the midst of the frenetic pace of the Formula 1 season, her steadfast encouragement provided him with a sense of grounding and reassurance. Whether she was cheering him on from the stands or sending him words of encouragement through late-night texts, her presence loomed large in his heart and mind.

Their relationship was built on a foundation of understanding and compromise, with each of them making sacrifices to support the other's dreams and aspirations. While her absence at certain events weighed heavily on her, she took solace in the knowledge that her love and support transcended geographical boundaries.

The day was a canvas of intimacy, each moment painted with tenderness and shared anticipation. As they lingered in her apartment, the world outside faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of them enveloped in a cocoon of affection.

Showering together was a dance of intimacy, the warm water cascading over their bodies like a gentle caress. He tenderly washed her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp with care and devotion. In that shared moment of vulnerability, their connection deepened, each touch speaking volumes of their love for one another.

As she dried her hair, she watched him with a soft smile as he meticulously shaved away the stray stubble, his concentration mirrored in the steady strokes of his razor. Even the simplest of tasks became moments to be savoured in each other's presence, the ordinary transformed into something extraordinary by the power of their love.

For him, the mundane rituals of getting ready took on new significance with her by his side. Every glance exchanged, every shared laugh, was a reminder of the profound joy he felt in having her as his partner. Her presence infused even the simplest moments with an electric energy, sparking excitement in his heart and a smile on his lips.

As he stood poised with the razor in hand, ready to rid himself of the faint traces of stubble that adorned his face, she intervened, her voice soft but determined.

“No, leave it. It looks hot, my love,” she said, her gaze lingering on him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. He paused, caught off guard by her unexpected request.

“But I thought you hated facial hair,” he replied, a hint of confusion tingling his words. A playful smile curved her lips as she stepped closer, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw.

“I've grown to love it because it's on you,” she confessed, her eyes sparkling with affection. He couldn't help but chuckle at her response, his heart swelling with warmth at her words.

“You're special, you know that,” he murmured, his voice laced with genuine admiration.

“Uh, huh. That's why you keep me around,” A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she teased him. He pulled her into his arms, unable to resist the urge to shower her with kisses.

Lando couldn't help but chuckle as he left her in the bathroom to put the finishing touches on her makeup. With a playful grin, he made his way to the kitchen to retrieve some snacks before the event.

After a few minutes, he heard the soft tapping of her heels against the hardwood floors, signalling her emergence from the bedroom. He turned, almost instinctively, his curiosity piqued by the sound of her approach.

His breath caught in his throat as she sauntered past him, the fabric of her dark orange dress flowing around her like molten lava, casting a mesmerising glow in the dim light of the apartment. She looked radiant, her beauty captivating him in a way that never failed to leave him breathless.

As she disappeared into the kitchen, he couldn't tear his gaze away, his jaw dropping slightly in awe. She was stunning, more breathtaking than he had ever seen her before.

When she finally turned to face him, their eyes locked in an unspoken exchange of admiration and affection. In that moment, words seemed unnecessary as the intensity of their connection spoke volumes, filling the space between them with an electric energy that crackled with anticipation.

“Are you just going to sit there and gawk at me?” She asked, her tone light but teasing.

“Yes,” he replied without missing a beat, his gaze lingering on her with unapologetic admiration. A mock scowl crossed her features as she shook her head, a hint of laughter dancing in her eyes.

“Well, stop it. You look stupid. Go put on your suit before we're late,” she instructed, her voice tinged with playful admonishment.

After dutifully adhering to her request and donning his suit, Lando returned to the kitchen to find her engrossed in replying to a few messages. With a tender smile, he approached her from behind, his footsteps silent against the floor.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pressed a gentle kiss to her neck, the warmth of his lips sending a shiver down her spine. She leaned back into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she tilted her head to the side, allowing him better access.

In that moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them cocooned in a bubble of affection. His touch was a soothing balm against the chaos of the day, grounding her in the present and reminding her of the love they shared. As he lingered against her, his arms holding her close, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. In his embrace, she found solace and reassurance

“I can't wait to do this with you for the rest of my life,” Lando whispered, his voice filled with sincerity as he gazed into her eyes. A soft smile graced her lips as she met his gaze, her heart swelling with love for him.

“Me too,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper but resounding with a depth of emotion that echoed his own.

In that fleeting moment, the weight of their words hung in the air, binding them together in a promise of forever. It was a declaration of their love, a pledge to stand by each other through every twist and turn that life may bring.

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cordeliawhohung · 1 month

Text

Leftovers [2/3]

Simon Riley x fem!Reader | a non-canon addition to my mafia!141 series

part 1 | part 3

warnings: unhealthy relationships, anxiety and depression, minor smut, possessive Simon, abusive behavior

you're his, now

wc: 4.6k

It had been months since the night your life ended and started again.

For the longest time, you were livid. Inconsolably upset at everything. A special type of betrayal festered in your chest where it rattled and raged against the hollow cavern between your ribs. That betrayal quickly revealed itself to be grief as the days went on. That utter melancholia threatened to suffocate you every time you thought about your old partners, The Prices. How they kept you like a pet, to be played and toyed with. How they decided to have a child without your input. How they only told you when they announced it to all their friends, like you were nothing more than a guest in their lives.

Then, there was Simon. Your savior. Or, at least that’s what he liked to call himself. It didn’t feel like salvation when he ripped you from the grasp of your old partner's bitter and unloving hands, not when you realized the cost of it. Lying wasn’t supposed to be synonymous with loving, and yet it was the very thing that had put you in the palm of Simon’s hands, made you so pliable for him as he fucked and marked you that night, making it impossible for you to ever return to your old life.

There was nothing but poison waiting for you with your old lovers, if you could even call them that. But being force fed the antidote hurt just as bad when that corruption had become the only comfort you had ever known.

Simon had a way of making things feel better, which usually consisted of him being anchored between your legs. If there was an issue he couldn’t fix by talking or kissing it away, then he would fuck it out of you, and you hated that it worked as well as it did. When you wanted to be mad at him for lying to you, for tricking you into giving yourself to him, his cock always ended up burrowing into your cunt. Your breath would be lost, stolen from your very lungs, and your words along with it. He had grown to know you so well that he was able to pull orgasms out of you with his eyes closed, rendering your brain numb and incapable of argument or resentment.

This cycle continued for what felt like forever. Your days would pass by with you rotting in bed in frustration and anguish as you choked on that antidote and feeling of betrayal, and when Simon had enough of your unresponsiveness, he would fuck you into submission. Coo and embrace you like a true lover would. It created some sort of dissonance within your very being. You were supposed to be mad at him for tricking you, and yet it felt divine being held against him. You couldn’t get enough of the searing sensation of his lips along your skin, or his breath caressing your ear as he slept.

It was agony being torn apart; forever caught between the gravity of your old lovers and the man that stole you from them.

Eventually, you woke up one day and it didn’t hurt anymore. Whatever frustration or anger that burrowed underneath your skin dissipated; vanished into thin air as if it had never existed in the first place. Things seemed brighter, you cried less, and Simon looked at you with adoration rather than pity for your shattered mental state.

Perhaps it was the ignorance that made things better. Without any access to the Prices, you had no knowledge at all of how they handled your absence, if they even cared at all. All you knew was that you had managed to find solace within Simon, despite the terrible start to your relationship. He really did take care of you, just like he said he would. He insisted on paying for everything, refusing to let you work, and provided you with everything you would ever need.

After all, you were his now.

Which was why you found yourself in front of a boiling pot of water in the kitchen of his apartment. Without the use of your phone, Simon had given you an old CD player to keep you occupied as you cooked or went about your day. Radiohead’s album In Rainbows droned on in the background as you mixed the pasta around the pot to keep them from sticking together. Spicy marinara bubbled on the next burner over, and its heavy aroma hung thick in the air around you, leaving you in a mouthwatering stupor.

Just as the alarm on the stove went off signaling the pasta was cooked, the deadbolt began to jingle behind you. After you turned the burners off, you quickly slipped out of the kitchen to greet Simon, who flashed you an entertained smirk. Exhaustion pulled at his eyes, yet they always seemed to light up when they landed on you, and you couldn’t help but grin up at him. It wasn’t often that he got home before ten, as his new job often kept him late, so you were ecstatic that he arrived just as you finished cooking up dinner.

“Smells like you’ve been busy,” he chuckled as he locked the door behind him.

“I thought I would have to leave some out for you again,” you admitted. His hands found your hips and he drew you closer, catching you in his gravity. “I’m glad you’re home.”

Before he allowed himself to respond, Simon squeezed your hips as his lips descended onto yours. It was the way he always greeted you when he arrived home from work, like he couldn’t get enough of you, or more accurately, like he knew you couldn’t get enough of him. You could taste the stale cigarettes on his breath, and the slight hint of mint that he used to attempt to cover it, and it took everything in you not to moan at the flavor. He was the one to pull away first, and your lips curved into a smile as his thumbs rubbed soothing circles along your hips.

“Let’s eat, yeah?” he prompted.

It didn’t take long for dishes to be served and for both you and Simon to settle on the couch in the living room while some programme droned on in the background. Even during meals you always huddled close to him as if you would die without his heat. Your leg laid pressed against his as you leaned into his side, and had Simon not been as large of a man as he was, you certainly would have smothered him with your presence.

“How was work?” you questioned once half your plate had been emptied.

“Was alright,” Simon replied with his mouth full of pasta. “Bit slow.”

“That why you’re home early?”

“Mhm.”

Simon never seemed like much of a talker, and neither were you until recently. A majority of your life had been spent in silent pining for your basic needs and desires, but once Simon had stolen you away, it was like all you ever wanted to do was talk. Perhaps it was because he genuinely seemed to care about what you had to say. Or maybe it was because some sort of loneliness still managed to creep into your life, like a ghost that haunted you.

“I’m glad you’re home early,” you admitted. “I’ve been missing you all day.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart. I always try to come home as soon as I can,” Simon assured you.

A twinge of exhaustion lurked underneath his tone, screaming at you that despite the fact he got off early, he certainly had a long day. He always seemed drained after arriving home, proving to you just how hard he worked in order to support you, to give you the life he told you that you deserved. You always had someone who would crawl into bed with you, someone who wasn’t ashamed to show you affection and love, someone to truly take care of you. Despite the circumstance, Simon was everything you could have ever asked for. Everything you would ever need.

So why did it feel like something was missing?

That night after the dishes were washed and the lights were turned down low, you and Simon hid underneath the covers where your limbs intertwined with one another. For some reason he always insisted that you sleep naked, and though you weren’t sure why, you didn’t really mind. In fact, feeling the warmth of his body seep into you was so intoxicating you probably would have come to that conclusion even without his prompting. You couldn’t get enough of his scent, or how his skin felt against yours, and even though the two of you had laid in bed for nearly twenty minutes you buzzed.

Nothing could satiate your need for him. You wouldn’t be satisfied until you were able to crawl into him and hide yourself away underneath his very flesh. You wanted to shrink yourself down, become some small thing, and tuck yourself into his pocket to be forever stuck with him. A vile yearning for him tainted your very essence, and yet you wished it would destroy you all the same.

“What’cha so wiggly for?” Simon questioned, half awake yet still teasing.

“I missed you,” you whined as you buried your face further into his bare chest.

His chuckle sounded low and grumbly in his throat as his arms wrapped firmly around your center. Wandering hands caressed along your hips and down your thighs, traversing and memorizing every single dimple of your flesh like it was the only story he ever wanted to know.

“I’m here now, love,” he hummed.

“I know, I just get so lonely when you’re gone,” you admitted with a pout. “You’re gone forever at work, and I just wanna talk to you. I was thinking that maybe if I had my phone back I could message you-”

“What did I say about your phone?”

The tone Simon used to cut you off was sharper than anything you had ever heard from him before, and it stopped you in your tracks. There was a fatigued sort of frustration that drenched his words which left a part of you wishing that you had never opened your mouth in the first place. He was too tired, too irritated to have a conversation, especially one like that, and you were afraid you had pushed his buttons a bit too much.

You swallowed hard as Simon’s hands moved to your chin, forcing you to look up at him through the dim light rather than keep your face hidden in his chest. Darkness obscured his face, making it near impossible to truly read his expression, and yet you found your bottom lip quivering all the same.

“Sweetheart,” he urged, softer that time, “what did I say about your phone?”

“That it’s… better if I don’t have it,” you answered as your teeth bit into the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah?” His hand moved from your chin to your cheek where his thumb gently rubbed at your skin. The notion was comforting, soothing even, yet you knew he was truly checking for tears. “And why’s that?”

“Because then the Prices won’t be able to contact me.”

Just like that, your mood was ruined. Any reminder of your past lovers was a painful one. Even after all those months they still seemed to have some sort of control over you, and the fact that they could sour your mood with just a simple memory was dehumanizing. Your somberness was so potent it exuded from your body like fine mist, and Simon’s caressing of your face increased tenfold in an attempt to calm you before things became catastrophic. You were his sweet, fragile girl, after all.

“Right. And it’s better that way, isn’t it sweetheart?” he concluded softly. “It’s better here with me, because I take care of you, don’t I? I don’t neglect you, or treat you like some pet.”

Although he was right, it didn’t make the bitter ache in your chest go away. Simon did his best to sooth the pain with his hands and words, and you shivered as his fingertips traversed from your face, to your shoulders, and down your waist. He had to find some way to distract you, some way to remind you that he was the only one you needed, and that you had to stay far away from Price and his trophy wife. You were too good for them; he needed you to know that.

“You’re mine, and I’m yours, that’s what we agreed on, yeah?” he continued. His hand began to dip lower, moving from your waist, over your stomach, and between your legs. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers burrowed between your thighs, searching for access to your not quite slick cunt. Your emotions were too high for you to be wet, Simon was well aware, but you both knew he could change that within an instant. “They’ll never see you again, never get to abuse you again because I’m here to protect you. I love you in a way they never did.”

Right as he spoke those last few words, his fingers greedily swiped against your clit, and your legs had no choice but to fall apart and grant him greater access. A gentle tremor shook the bed as Simon repositioned himself, pushing you on your back so that he could hover over your exposed body like it was a fresh meal just for him. Famished lips descended onto your neck as his fingers prodded against your entrance, forcing your mind to go blank with longing.

“Needy thing, aren’t you? Need my full attention? I’m sorry, sweetheart, shoulda fucked you the moment I got home, huh? I’m all yours, and you’re all mine. Say it,” Simon urged as he still withheld himself from you.

Squirming, you reached out for him with wanting hands as you snaked your arms around his neck. This was how he healed you, with his fingers teasing your cunt and his saccharine words plugging your ears. There was nothing else in the world you needed besides Simon. Every chord of your body yearned for him as if he was the only sustenance your body craved. This was how he healed you. With honeyed words and a worshiping mantra reminding you of who you belonged to.

“I’m yours.”

That night only added on to the other countless evenings spent with Simon tucked between your legs to voraciously consume you whole. There was no thinking to be done when he could mercifully do it for you, and you were content with that. At least, you thought you were. Things always became difficult when Simon vanished off to work, and he would do his best to make it up to you when he arrived home, to distract you from the empty feeling that seemed to fester inside of your chest. But no matter what he gave you, what he did for you when he was home, your mind always wandered when he was away.

You couldn’t help but think back to when you lived with the Prices, how cold and lonely that house was, and how colder still your lovers were. Mr. Price — no, John — had sent you over to Simon like a bitch; some obedient pup meant for entertaining but not for loving, and it didn’t make sense. He had sent you over to comfort Simon so flippantly, yet acted as if the world had ended when you never returned back to them that terrible night. Was there some sort of miscommunication? Was that never his intention at all? And still, they left you out of the imperative conversation about their pregnancy like it never concerned you at all.

You were spiraling again, and Simon was able to pick up on it just as easily as he could sniff out a bad wound. He could only keep you caged up so long, and he knew he needed to remedy it before he was back at the beginning with you. So you shouldn’t have been surprised when he arrived home one day with a gift. Beautiful, blush pink cloth sewn into a perfect sundress sat underneath delicate tissue paper, and you had a hard time hiding your awe and surprise when you revealed the astonishing dress. Simon’s eyes seemed more dilated than normal when he saw you hold it up to your body, and you caught onto his small smirk.

Without hesitation, you slipped into the dress at his prompting, and you were ecstatic to find that it fit perfectly. Simon had gotten used to your sizing after having to buy you a whole new wardrobe after you escaped the Prices, but even then you were impressed at how well it formed to your measurements. It was as if Simon had every inch of your body memorized after the months you had spent together to the point that there was no way he could mess up your sizing. You couldn’t help but smile knowing that no one else had ever done that for you before.

It didn’t end there. With Simon having to work longer hours that night than normal, he insisted on taking you out to lunch, which was something you couldn’t ever recall doing. Ages had passed since you had even stepped foot out of Simon’s apartment, and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt the sun on your skin. You didn’t know why he hadn’t taken you out sooner, but if you had to guess, you were certain it was for the same reason he did everything else; to keep you safe from the Prices.

The restaurant Simon took you to was the fanciest you had ever seen before. Several art pieces adorned the walls with such vibrant shades you were convinced that the art itself cost more than whatever it took for them to construct the building itself. Crystal chandeliers hung high above your heads, and before either of you could order the waiter had filled your glasses with the finest of wines. The menu itself didn’t even have any prices, but Simon didn’t seem at all concerned with it, and insisted that you ordered whatever you wanted.

There was something deliciously domestic about being there with him. You belonged to him, and he belonged to you, that much was evident, but there was something exciting about being able to show that fact in public. To prove that someone loved you enough to show it off, rather than hide you away. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t wipe that grin off your face as the two of you talked about nothing while eating the mouthwatering meals on your plates. For a moment, you two were the only beings in the world.

For a moment.

A flash of something caught your attention. Maybe it was a giggle, or the cooing and awing, but all you knew was that your eyes suddenly glued themselves on the patrons a few tables away from you. For a split second, you thought you saw them. John and his wife. It wasn’t them at all, but you realized you only feared that because this woman, this beautiful woman with her glowing skin and healthy laugh, was pregnant. Obviously so, too, as her stomach swelled and stretched with the growing life inside of her. Her husband could hardly take his eyes off of her, constantly reaching across the table to hold her hand despite her attempt at trying to enjoy her lunch. It was… stomach lurching.

By that point, Mrs. Price would be four months along. Or, no, more than that for sure. It had been four months since you had been taken from them, since you had even heard from them. Four months without closure, or the opportunity to talk and get answers. A part of you needed to know why things happened the way they did, but you were completely in the dark. All you had received was whatever Simon spoon fed you, but it wasn’t enough. You weren’t sure if it would ever be enough. Maybe you had been empty for too long to ever be full again.

“Everythin’ alright, sweetheart?”

Your eyes tore away from the unsuspecting couple and landed back on Simon. He studied you carefully with a neutral expression, but you saw the slight press of his lips. Dark red wine faintly stained his pale skin, yet you couldn’t find yourself able to appreciate the beauty of it. All you had was a rotten feeling in your stomach and the sudden urge to vomit.

“Yeah, of course,” you lied.

Things got bad again when Simon left for work that night. Maybe it was the knowledge that he wouldn’t be home until late that made your brain ceaselessly buzz. Or maybe it was the image of that pregnant woman at the restaurant, the one that reminded you of the suffering you had to endure all those months ago. You attempted to silence that incessant sound in your mind as best as you could, because you knew you couldn’t afford to blow up, so you did anything to distract yourself. Music blasted through the CD player louder than it ever had, certainly to the annoyance of your neighbors, but for once you found yourself incapable of caring about anyone but yourself.

When that didn’t work, you put on a movie instead. It wasn’t one you recognized, just something you had flipped to when you were browsing through streaming services. You had gotten dressed in one of Simon’s plain tees in an attempt to drown yourself in his scent, and yet that didn’t dull the ache either. All you could think of while the images flashed in front of you on the screen were the movie nights at the Prices. How John would make you cuddle up next to Simon, how the only comfort you could find was in his beating heart as he held you close to him…

There had to be a reason for it all.

When the movie ended and there was nothing to accompany you but silence and the sound of your own breathing, that’s when you knew you couldn’t handle it anymore. You needed something. You needed answers.

Like a feral rat, you began to search every nook and cranny of the apartment for your phone. If you could find it, maybe you could get some answers from John. Even if Simon said it was bad for you, you knew you needed closure, no matter how much it hurt. Wherever Simon had put it, it was well hidden. You nearly tore apart his dresser, every drawer in the kitchen, the corners of the bedroom closet; everywhere you could think of, and it wasn’t there.

Just when you were about ready to tear the floor up, you finally found it. Really, you had half expected him to have thrown it away, yet there it sat underneath the bathroom vanity, hidden behind a myriad of cleaning supplies so far back the overhead light couldn’t illuminate it. When you finally had it in your grasp, you nearly cried, and you weren’t sure why. A fit of emotions bubbled in your stomach, each of them violently conflicting, yet frustration took over when you attempted to turn the phone on and the screen wouldn’t light up. Of course it wouldn’t, it hadn’t been used for months.

Rushing off to the bedroom, you quickly borrowed Simon’s charger and let your phone sit on the nightstand as it ever so slowly charged. Answers almost within your reach, and yet your anxiety bubbled up more than ever as you waited for that black screen to flicker to life.

It took ages for the thing to fully load up once it was charged enough to turn on, and you held the device in your shaking hands. All your old apps appeared on the screen, countless pictures that you had taken over the years, but the most eyecatching of them all was the amount of notifications you had for your text messages. 172, all within the last four months.

When you clicked on the app, you quickly realized that all of those messages had been sent by John, and you hated the way your stomach dropped. But this was what you wanted, wasn’t it? Answers? To have him explain why he did what he did? To make it stop hurting? With a heavy breath, you clicked on his name, and the app instantly scrolled up to the very first message he had sent in his cluster over the last few months, and it was then that you noticed something was wrong. Just before his onslaught of messages, there was a reply sent by you, one you didn’t remember sending.

Don’t contact me again.

This wasn’t you. That had to have been Simon, because he had taken your phone from you before you ever got the chance to respond to them yourself. Their worried messages, their pleading for you to come home, to know that you were okay. It didn’t work, obviously. The next few messages after that one was full of John pleading to speak with you, of several missed calls, of him apologizing for anything they did to upset you. The texts dated back only hours, sometimes minutes apart, and it was strange. You had never seen him so desperate before. Not for you.

Eventually they seemed to stop for a while, only to start back up again weeks later. There were plenty of comments saying how much they missed you, how they wished you would change your mind and come home, and it felt… wrong. Hadn’t Simon told them that you were with him? He told you he did. He had even quit his job with Price because he didn’t want any bad blood, so why did they act as if you were lost? Like they didn’t know where you were at?

Confused, you continued scrolling, eyes glossing over at the repetitive messages, until eventually you stumbled across pictures. Baby clothes. Cute little shoes. Ultrasounds. Pregnancy announcements. A gender reveal. They were having a girl, and they painted the nursery a cute shade of pink, just like the dress Simon had gotten for you that day. And then there was a video. It was short, and though it wasn’t visually stimulating, it had a rhythmic pulse accompanying the audio. The baby’s heartbeat.

Wish you were here to share these moments with us.

You weren’t able to stop the tears streaming down your face, or the food that came back up to say hello. Indignifying as it was, you sobbed on the cold bathroom floor as you vomited and continued to dry heave the emptied contents of your stomach. Everything crashed down on you all at once, and yet you felt numb at the same time. Nothing made sense. Why were they still trying to talk to you after all that time, like there was still a chance you would return?

Then, you suddenly thought back to the morning Simon admitted his lie to you. How he had done it so easily and without remorse. How he grabbed at your cunt like he… owned you. You would have thrown up again at that thought if you had more food in your stomach, but you instead rose from the cold tile to rinse your mouth. You didn’t feel like a lover. You didn’t feel cared for. For the first time in months, you felt like a pet.

So you did the only thing you had ever been good at doing: you ran. You ran just like you did back at John’s club, and every other time your emotions conflicted so bad you swore you would die. After you gathered a small bag full of personal items, your phone and wallet included, you rushed out the door and didn’t bother to look back as it closed behind you.

an: this was only ever supposed to be a one shot, but i decided to expand on the story a little more, as i felt the first part wasn't able to fully convey the story i was trying to tell. once the 3rd part is posted though, that'll be it, so please don't harass me about more parts again (: gives me anxiety

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #f!reader

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nahoney22 · 10 days

Note

Me again! Please can I request some HC’s with the bad batch and how they react to reader (gn or female) accidentally crawling into the boys bunk at night 😂

Accidental Sleeping Arrangements

All Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

How the boys react to you accidentally crawling into their bunk at night.

warnings: Fluff, comfort, cuddles, some moody boys, gender neutral reader. Can be read as romantic or platonic.

Echo 💤

The first time:

As you slid into his bunk accidentally that evening, he was thoroughly bewildered. He had jolted awake and sat upright, observing your exhausted form snuggling against him, eyelids heavy with fatigue.

With tactful gentleness, he roused you from your slumber, delicately shaking you to bring you back to awareness. "Hey, um, you're in my bunk, trooper."

Your eyes flickered open, adjusting to the dim light, and a muttered curse escaped your lips as you retreated, cheeks warming with embarrassment. "Sorry, Echo," you apologized, slipping out of his bunk. "I must be completely drained," you sheepishly confessed.

"It's alright. I just didn't want to startle you by waking up to my face," he commented. You glance at him with a furrow forming on your brow before you shook your head.

"I doubt I'd be bothered by that..." your words trailed off, potentially carrying unintended flirtation. Echo's eyes widened slightly, his hand instinctively moving to the back of his neck, a clear sign of slight shyness at your words.

"Anyway," you say abruptly, spinning on your heel. "Sorry about that."

Echo simply nodded, silently observing as you retreated to your own bunk, leaving him with a sudden chill in the air, now yearning for the warmth you briefly brought beside him.

The second time:

With a tired yawn, Echo wearily approaches his bunk a few nights later, only to halt in surprise at the sight of someone curled up inside. Upon closer inspection, he realises it's you again, presenting him with a slight dilemma.

Despite his weariness, Echo knows he needs rest, and while your bunk is an option, his own provides the perfect setup for his cybernetics, ensuring he's at his best for the next day's duties.

Letting out a small sigh, hoping you wouldn't mind, he settles on the edge of his bunk and gently wakes you. "Hey, you're in my bunk again," he murmurs softly.

You stir, meeting his gaze before cringing slightly. "Again? I'm so sorry," you begin to rise, but his hand on your shoulder stops you.

"You can stay, but I'd also like to get some sleep... if you, uh, catch my meaning," he hints with a faint smile, hoping you understand.

"Oh," you blush, considering for a moment. "Well, I hope you don't mind sharing."

"Not at all," he reassures, his tone gentle as you make space. He lies beside you, and before long, you drift back to sleep. Echo finds solace in the rhythm of your soft snores, gradually succumbing to sleep himself... though waking up to find you both cuddling is a surprise he hadn't anticipated, yet one he welcomes warmly.

Hunter 💤

The first time:

When Hunter awoke to find you crawling into his bunk, confusion gripped him. Instantly alert, his hands tensed, ready to confront any potential intruder, but his apprehension melted away as he recognised you.

He lay there in silence, contemplating his next move.

While a part of him felt inclined to let you sleep, considering your recent exhaustion, he couldn't shake the concern of startling you upon awakening to find him beside you.

After ensuring you were deeply asleep, he carefully extricated himself from the occupied bunk, making sure not to disturb you.

Once free, he couldn't suppress a soft chuckle as he observed you, peacefully snuggled into his pillow, emitting gentle snores. “Sleep well.” He whispered to you before leaving you to rest.

He made a mental note to address the situation in the morning, but perhaps it’s better left unsaid since you’ll know your error when you woke up.

The second time:

As you woke up to find yourself in Hunter's bunk, mortification swept over you. Yet, when you encountered Hunter in the cockpit, he didn't mention a word about it, instead offering you a drink of caf.

A small part of you entertained the idea that perhaps he was unaware of the nighttime intrusion. However, your suspicions were confirmed a few nights later.

Fatigued and not paying attention to your surroundings, you headed towards what you thought was your bunk and climbed inside, only to be surprised by the presence of another person. "Hunter, what're you doing?" you blurt out, eyes widening in disbelief.

"I could ask you the same question," he chuckles, adjusting his position and turning to face you. "This is my bunk."

Blinking in realisation, you glance around, confirming his assertion. "Oh," you laugh sheepishly, "I thought this was mine."

His smile is gentle, his eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. "You're more than welcome to stay," he offers casually, though he soon realizes the potential implications of his words. "If you want to, that is."

A part of you knows you should return to your own bunk, yet there's an inexplicable pull keeping you there. "Well, I'm all comfy now..." you hint with a small smile.

He nods, turning his gaze away and closing his eyes. "Me too. Sleep well."

It took you a moment to fall asleep but just like how Hunter didn’t tell you that you had slept in his bunk first initially, you won’t tell him how he pulls you into his body as he slept and held you close throughout the night. Not that you seemed to mind.

Wrecker 💤

The first time:

"Wrecker, you scared me! What are you doing in my bunk?" you exclaimed, startled by the unexpected intrusion.

As you thought you were settling into your bunk for the night, using your hands to navigate through the darkness, you accidentally crawled onto something large and hard.

Assuming it was just your sheets bunched up, you attempted to smooth it out, only to be met with a small yelp that made your heart skip a beat.

"Huh?" Wrecker groggily emerged from his sleep cocoon, rubbing his eyes. "This is my bunk, isn't it?"

"No, I'm pretty sure it's mine," you asserted, but as Wrecker shifted in the bunk and reached under the blanket, he pulled out his beloved Lula.

"Oh. Maybe not then." You felt pretty embarrassed by your mistake, but Wrecker didn't seem to mind at all.

"It's alright, thought I was going to get an extra cuddle buddy for a second there!" he chuckled heartily, waving Lula in your face. His laughter filled the room, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you at the thought of being Wrecker's "cuddle buddy," though you weren't entirely sure if he was joking.

Deciding not to dwell on it further and eager to avoid keeping Wrecker awake any longer, you offered a meek apology before retreating to your actual bunk. As you settled in, you couldn't shake the image of Wrecker's playful grin from your mind.

The second time:

Wrecker stared down at his bunk, finding it already occupied with not much room left for him. You were snoozing away, oblivious to his dilemma. Wrecker knew he could be a bit of a grouch without his sleep, so he decided to gently prod you awake.

"Hey," he nudged you, rousing you from your slumber. "Is this you asking to be my cuddle buddy?"

You stirred awake, blinking in confusion as you glanced at him. It was then that you noticed Lula on the pillow next to your head. "Oh shoot, sorry Wrecker," you sighed groggily, just wanting to fall back asleep into the warmth of his bunk.

"It's alrigh’," he chuckled softly, his deep voice filling the room with warmth. "But uh... I kinda need to sleep."

"Then come cuddle next to me," the words slipped out before you realized what you were saying, but you didn't want to take them back either. The thought of Wrecker's warmth beside you was oddly comforting.

Wrecker was surprised for a moment, his eyes widening slightly, before a soft smile spread across his face. Without hesitation, he slung his armor off and crawled into the space beside you. "Are ya sure about this?"

"Mhm," you replied sleepily, your arms spreading over his chest as you nestled into him like a log warming a fire. "You're warm."

Wrecker smiled to himself, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he closed his eyes, feeling your steady breathing against his chest.

Tech 💤

The first time:

Sleep was not a common occurrence for Tech, so when he made the rare decision to nestle down for the night, he wasn't too perturbed to find you asleep in his allocated spot.

He paused for a moment, considering whether to wake you, but recalling your exhausted state earlier, he reasoned that you wouldn't have intentionally taken his bunk.

Instead, he quietly observed the peaceful rise and fall of your chest, noting the serenity that graced your features, before silently retreating back to the cockpit where he remained awake for the night once again.

"Tech, why didn't you wake me? I feel terrible," you expressed your guilt that next morning upon discovering that you had accidentally slept in his bunk, leaving him to forego his own rest.

"That is not necessary. You were tired, and I can always keep my mind occupied with tasks or reading intel," he replied in his usual composed manner, peering at you over his datapad. "I shall assume this was a one-time occurrence, and my bunk shall be my own again tonight."

“Yes, of course," you nodded, your expression reflecting genuine concern as you offered another apology before preparing for the demanding day ahead. Despite Tech's assurances, the weight of your unintended intrusion lingered.

The second time:

It just so happened to be the next night that you found yourself once again interrupting Tech's sleep. Moving through the dark ship with heavy eyes and a yawn on your lips, it was no surprise that you once again miscounted where your bunk was and crawled into the wrong one.

Your head hit the pillow, and your eyes shut as the warmth of the bed enveloped you. However, despite the comfort, a small flickering light kept intruding upon your consciousness, prompting your eyes to flutter open. At first, you didn't register the source, but as you turned your head to the right, your eyes widened in realisation: Tech laying there on his datapad, as if nothing had happened.

"Tech, what... am I...?" you began, your voice trailing off as confusion clouded your thoughts.

"In the wrong bunk?" he interjected calmly, settling his datapad down and gazing down at you. His goggles rested atop his head, allowing you to see the brightness of his eyes in the dark. "That is correct."

You sit up, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood over you, and run your hand over your face in frustration. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's up with me.”

Tech raises a single brow, his expression softened with genuine concern. "Perhaps in the morning, I should run some tests if you will allow me?" he suggests softly, his voice carrying a hint of worry. "But for now, I suggest you get some sleep."

Nodding in agreement, you reluctantly pull the blanket off your body, preparing to retreat to your own bunk. However, before you can make your escape, Tech's hand gently rests on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

"You are free to continue sleeping in my bunk tonight if you find it comfortable," he offers unexpectedly, his gesture of kindness catching you off guard.

"What, really?" you respond, turning to face him, searching his eyes for confirmation.

With a nod, Tech reclines back and retrieves his datapad. "Yes, really. I do not mind."

"But what if I keep you awake again?" you voice your concern.

"Do not worry about me," he reassures softly, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now, get some rest before I give you a lecture about the benefits of getting sleep."

You chuckle softly at his remark before settling, finding comfort in his understanding demeanor. As you prepare to drift off into slumber, you can't help but feel thankful for Tech's compassion and generosity.

In the quiet of the night, you woke up only once, feeling Tech's arm drape gently across your body. Yet, instead of feeling unsettled, you found comfort in his presence.

Crosshair 💤

The first time:

As you prepared to settle in for the night after a long day, exhaustion clouded your judgment, leading you to absentmindedly crawl into a bunk without much thought. However, your relaxation was short-lived as you were startled by a gravelly voice beside you.

"What are you doing?" The abrupt question made you jump, and you inadvertently knocked your head against the top of the bunk in surprise.

"What am I doing? What the kriff are you doing?" you retorted in annoyance, rubbing your sore head as Crosshair sat up beside you, his expression stern in the dim light.

"I'll think you'll find this is my bunk," he hissed, his sharp gaze piercing through the darkness. As you glanced across the room, you realised your mistake—the bunk you were in wasn't yours.

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh. Now get out before I drag you out," he threatened, though you could tell it was more playful than serious.

"Alright, alright, keep your hair on," you sighed as you obediently crawled out of his bunk, feeling the absence of warmth as you departed.

Crosshair grumbled under his breath and rolled back onto his side to sleep, while you mentally chided yourself for the blunder, making sure you never accidentally try to sleep in his bunk again.

The second time:

You're exhausted, your head throbbing with the relentless ache of sleep deprivation from the past few days, and you've reached the point where you don't care where you sleep anymore. And that includes Crosshair's bunk.

As you settle down on the edge of his bunk, the closest one available, you feel the weight of his gaze on your back, following your movements as you swing your legs around and lay down. "What are you doing?" his voice cuts through the silence, tinged with irritation.

You don't reply, simply closing your eyes as you allow the fatigue to wash over you, hoping for a moment's respite.

"This is my bunk," he asserts firmly, his agitation evident, but as you remain silent, his annoyance shifts to confusion.

"Are you... alright?" he inquires, concern creeping into his voice.

You shake your head softly, and you hear him sigh, but he doesn't press you further. Nor does he demand that you leave.

As sleep begins to claim you, Crosshair remains awake for a while, his thoughts swirling. In his mind, he tells himself that this is a one-time occurrence.

Yet, if you're upset and in need of somewhere to rest for a while, he doesn't mind if you sleep next to him again. After all, it turns out to be the best sleep he's had in a while too.

Masterlist

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417@eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex x @jesseeka @theroguesully y @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97@staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans s @nunanuggets s @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 7 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @green-alm0nd @thiswitchloves9904

#the bad batch HCs #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #echo x reader #tech x reader #Hunter x reader #Wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #tbb #nahoney22 writes

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justporo · 6 months

Text

At a point in time

It's a lazy, stormy night in Baldur's Gate. Astarion and you are just lying in bed cozily. Rain whips and taps against the windows. And wind howls around your cozy little home. Some lit candles throw softly shuddering gold-orange light and some shadows in your room.

Astarion is laying between your legs - his upper body is wrapped around yours, your legs are hooked around his hips and back comfortably. His head is on your chest. His eyes are closed -softly though. He's barely moving at all. You've even stopped talking a long while ago.

You lazily brush through his soft curls with one hand, tugging softly on single strands. Trying to detangle some knots. Carefully letting your fingertips press onto and caress the nape of his neck - right there where you can feel the tension in his spine.

Your other hand is holding his, idly playing with your joint fingers. Tugging on the end of his little finger. Letting your fingers scratch over the palm. Then locking fingers with his and squeezing affectionately.

Astarion feels your warmth. How it blissfully seeps into his own body. With one pointy ear pressed to your chest he can hear and feel your calm, slow heartbeat. The rhythm is steady and sure. He's breathing deeply - a habit he can't seem to shake. And he's come to enjoy the slow rise and fall and how it softly sways his body against yours.

And as he lays there with you, he can feel himself relax - even if just a little. The years of perpetual fight or flight being finally over. Finally, the hope of being able to let his guard down. Removing all the layers of defence that were needed for survival. And the opportunity to hopefully find himself again after the thick walls are torn down.

Some tension is finally dissolving after centuries of being as taut as a bow string. Ready to be set off at every given moment. Ready to cut, to hurt. But the strings loosen now, the arrow's being lowered. At least for this moment in time.

Astarion's shoulders drop, his jaw relaxes. He melts into the skin-on-skin contact, feels how it makes all his spikes he's put up to not let anyone get close, evaporate. He lies in your arms - that demand nothing of him - only provide him with comfort and much needed solace.

And he could just stay right in that moment forever until all of him had blissfully perished in this comfort. Your arms and body wrapped around him being his small piece of heaven.

The safe haven he's yearned an eternity for.

And the anchor, steady in place, he knows he can always come back to if needed should waves lead him astray.

Author's note: Wrote a drabble without that even being the intention, I only wanted to set a scene... Then my head wanted to be pretentious and flesh it out more... I actually wanted to work on longer stuff and I only did this while waiting for a parcel...

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #drabble #imagine #bg3 imagine #astarion headcanons

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seraphdreams · 7 months

Text

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"TO SEE WHAT YOUR INSIDES LOOK LIKE." | GHOSTFACE!ARMIN ARLERT.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 4.6k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader, smut, modern au, mentions of murder / death / blood, fingering, armin’s a creep, symbolism, noncon/dubcon, insanity, manipulation, monomania, creampie, knives, stalking. mdni <3.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. armin’s worked hard to build up his perfect life, and he certainly wasn’t expecting for someone to rip that from under him. he’s obsessed — with a life that isn’t his.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! we are sooo back n in full swing for kinktober this year !! i’ll drop my masterlist here for all the prettie dolls to check out … please show this some love by reblogging / sharing, it’ll mean the absolute world 2 me !! kk, luv ya, bye ♡

Armin Arlert. Age 23. Graduated from Shiganshina University.

Armin Arlert, starting his new life under a freshly installed roof that rivaled his dorm of the past four years and provided him with much needed privacy. Armin Arlert, with a degree in humanitarian affairs accompanied with a promising future ahead, it’s the life he deserved after the turbulent destruction that was his tragic past. He could start over now in high hopes of making a name for himself in this unfamiliar city. Nothing could stop him, or the unperturbed spout of elation percolating within.

Aside from optimism, though, he remained undoubtedly sure that the life he had curated for himself was one that no other could outclass. He was smart — spent his days in libraries, in his study room, reading about anything that satiated his appetite for enlightenment, and be that as it may, he wasn’t looking for a lover. His solace brought him far better pleasure than any person could possibly imagine.

He’d work, research, and then work some more, day in and day out. And the day of your meeting was no different.

He had decided to utilize the time he carved out of his restless schedule for a much needed re-read of his favorite book. Moments like these were significant to Armin; the pungent aroma of freshly brewed tea in his mug, luminescence dim in the apartment, and a faint timbre of violins that spilled from his speaker.

Moments like these were when he couldn’t keep track of how many hours had passed him by as he flipped page by page into whatever universe his books had drawn him into.

Rested against the kitchen counter with his novel in one hand and retrieving a sip from his beverage in the other, his eyes scanned the piece of literature. Every once and awhile, he’d shift his weight from his left hip to the right, or opt to sit on the cozy loveseat in his study. All without withdrawing his attention from his book.

Glasses low on the bridge of his nose, he gently pushed them up — Then it came. The sonority of his doorbell, jostling him out of his serene thoughts and the inquisitiveness that flowed through his veins soon after, urged his body to tread to the front door in search of the cause.

As his footfall led him closer to the handle of the door, he could make out a silhouette, seemingly of a woman. All inquisitions of who could be at his doorstep were fulfilled once he opened it and you stood, with a bright smile on your face.

Armin’s angelic features hidden underneath a veil of golden blond tresses accentuated his soft, azure-hued eyes. His face was one of few that aided you in comfort just upon first glance, which chased away the unease of the possibility that he could’ve been ill-tempered.

“Hi, I’m Y/N! I moved in next door,” You pointed your thumb in the direction beside you as if to signal which side of the building you’d be occupying. “I just thought I'd introduce myself,”

He matched your syrupy sweet beam with one of his own, the corners of his eyes turning upward in tandem as if they were smiling too. He held the door open slightly wider to catch a better glimpse of you. From your attire, he could discern that you weren’t much of a modest girl, but it’d be wrong of him to idly make assumptions. Especially when his choice of dress during the lax hours of the day were a white button-up, cashmere cardigan thrown atop, with a pair of tan slacks.

“Y/N?” He repeated, in a manner to affirm that he had heard correctly. “I’m Armin. It’s nice to meet you,”

He would’ve held his hand out for yours had it not been engaged by his book. You weren’t trying to pry, yet the cover of the story was lucid in your mind once you took notice. “Berenice? The Edgar Allan Poe novel?”

His eyes trailed to where your manicured nail was pointed. The rosy flush of his cheeks deepened while he rubbed away the discomfiture stirring at the back of his neck. Once again, he had mindlessly brought his book with him wherever he strode.

“Y-Yeah, It’s my favorite. Have you read it?”

“A few times,” You hummed, meeting his sheepish gaze. “It’s so jarring, right?”

Armin skimmed over your face before allowing himself to speak. “But there’s beauty in the madness,” His words trolled over in a more weighty tone than he had intended, an apologetic smile on his face once he caught wind.

“Or at least that’s how i interpret it,”

His outward timidity roused an endearing chuckle from you. “I truly don’t mean to bother you, though. If you need anything I'm on your right!” You retort with a vague inclination of haste.

Truth be told, Armin’s interest in you piqued with the mention of the Poe story. “Oh, you’re not a bother-”

His vocables fell short against your own when you waved him goodbye, and he mirrored your actions with cordiality in his eyes.

Maybe she’s just busy.

—

Ever since Armin’s first encounter with you, he had found himself taking a rather atypical interest in the relations of you. The first bout of instances being regular events of curiosity where he’d watch as the moving company aided you in getting your belongings settled; hauling in furniture and appliances, all while Armin remained under the guise of checking his mailbox. Over a short span of time, though, he found himself increasingly knowledgeable in the subject that was you.

You showered at 8:00pm. You ate dinner at 7:00pm. The alarm settled on your desk, a few feet beyond your bed would go off at 6:00am sharp, and he’d be up at that same dawning hour to anticipate your departure to work.

He knew these things. Of course, he did.

He memorized all of your schedules to calculate what you’d be doing throughout the day, and where.

His own work was slow for him during those days, and books didn’t seem to capture that spark of exhilaration like you did. For once, he felt enthralled by each day granting him an opportunity to analyze you further.

On another day, he’d built up enough confidence to observe you as you came home from work, once more, under the false assumption that he’d been checking his mail.

“Good afternoon.”

Armin’s voice registered within your being quickly, startling you out of your fast-paced strut to your door. “Oh, good afternoon!” Your footfall faltered until you reached a close. “Armin, was it?”

Over Armin’s time of stalking- no, studying you, he’d come to realize just how ethereal you were. It was as if the deities above handmade every feature on your face, curve of your body, lilt in your voice with the intention of making you one of their own — an angel.

He found you charming.

With a nod of his head, he braced himself to inch toward you. Not proximal enough to cause you discomfort, he wouldn’t want that, yet enough to signal his unwavering immersion. “Did you just come from work?”

It was otiose of him to ask the question seeing as he undeniably knew the answer. Judging from your business attire and pencil skirt just a little too short for any other establishment’s dress standards, he had assumed you worked a kushy job at an office firm. You evidently earned a heap of money, with him recalling the numerous occasions you’d come home with luxury shopping bags hanging off your arms, tied in with the fact that the suites he inhabited weren't exactly affordable for the average person.

You responded hospitably to his question, that same lovely smile poured over your features and seeping into his personage. “Mhm, and what about you? Your work?”

He was surprised at your need to pull the conversation along further, it was as if you were succoring to curate his plans, as if you could read his mind and pick out from a haystack that you were his only interest, you were his source of bliss. A serendipitous moment, indeed. He straightened himself up, clearing his throat. “Me? Oh, well I just help out at charities and organizations from time to time,”

He’d be a fool to deny the set of wide eyes that were fixated upon his figure.

“For real? You must be a really good person then.” You responded with your hands clasped together and held against your chest, pupils of your eyes glittered in a sense of unshakable admiration.

As the conversation went on, you had begun to synonimize your neighbor with the fresh, and comforting feeling of congeniality. It helped that he was easy to converse with, seeming as he’d always been listening while keeping eye contact and rewiring his queries in a way that deemed you the main focus, and he, a vessel for your words to absorb within.

For Armin, he enjoyed getting to know you. You were perfect, in all the best ways.

And soon enough, through an exhausting series of prying inquiries, he’d piece together that your perfection wasn’t hulled along by determination or strong will, but by God’s good grace. He’d come to register that you didn’t have to struggle like he did to reach the triumphant point in life for which he stood. You were born that way, born with a silver spoon in your mouth and just the right kiss-ass people in your life to keep you that way. A spoiled fucking brat.

What had been the rationale behind his suffering? The years in which he’d been bullied repeatedly in public schools, had acquaintances that had only cared about him for their personal gain, and parents so utterly vapid that they’d give up their only child if it meant they could continue working towards an unattainable goal?

Fueled by a sense of jealousy, he waned your nepotism a hindrance. You were merely a telescope that he wanted so badly to see into.

For Armin was obsessed with a life that wasn’t his.

Meticulously, he had spent his time after that hidden away within his flat. Armin didn’t care to know anything more about you, he didn’t care to see your face, and he surely didn’t care for you.

When he stumbled across an unkempt, unpacked box in his room with the label of “Uni 2019,” written on the side in thick, inky letters, his concern led him to relive those memories upon removing the cardboard lid.

In it, there were polaroid photos, compact trophies he’d won from participating in school events, courtesy of his STEM minor, and a dark piece of fabric that caught his eye more than anything.

He recalled his first year of college where his two closest friends, Eren and Mikasa, dragged him out of their stuffy shared dorm and onto one of the first parties held by the school’s fraternity house during the fall semester.

“Armin, you look ridiculous,”

Mikasa said as she stomped away in her leather boots, leading the way for the two men accompanying her to follow her off-campus.

She was dressed in homage to Misa Amane from her favorite anime, although the style of dress aided no significance since it was hauntingly similar to her everyday wardrobe.

Eren was intended to show up as “Light” but he insisted on wearing something he deemed appealing, his plan was to get initiated by the end of the night, anyhow. He wore a deep black cloak, dark ripped jeans and had his hair tied aimlessly into his warped perception of a bun, with the mask of a ghost facing sideways on his head to allow for him to see.

Ghostface. Scream (1996).

Armin allowed himself to be pulled away by the Ackerman, his rebuttal falling on deaf ears. “You didn’t give me enough time, Mika. This is all I could come up with.” Armin’s poor excuse for a costume was tissue paper wrapped around his frame in stereotypical mummy fashion, a classic of all classics.

Though, that night had concluded like any other gathering involving college-aged students, the trio having woken up to hangovers and bad decisions.

Armin stared at the contents of the box a while longer before taking the cloak out and trying it on for size. Obviously, it was meant for a taller person, but regardless, the wheels in his head gradually spun.

He took it off after careful observation when the sensation of juvenility filled his veins. He wasn’t fond of the costume rousing the impression that he was an illegitimate killer — He knew more than he let on, and his passion for the grotesqueries scribed in his books further proved that.

Concurrently, you had been pondering the reason for Armin’s disappearance. After your last conversation with him, he’d stopped formulating ways to talk to you and seemed to never leave his suite, and your heart yearned for his presence once the feeling truly settled in.

You had been swayed by his charm.

His dulcet tone of voice, the intriguing quirks that seemed to hang off of him like leaves to a tree; You missed the way he cared for you, through mundane matters and the like.

Night had fallen, the warm, ochre hues of the day meshing in perfect balance with deep purple tones that signified time’s passing. You were settling into bed, just about ready to fall into slumber when you heard light tapping at your door.

Only for a second did the thought of who could possibly be up this late float through your mind.

Your soles kissed the floor when you made your way to the front door. And once you finally opened it, the sight of your worst fear was drawn to life — The deviant sight of the unknown, with what seemed to look like a kitchen knife in its right hand.

Quickly, without time to react, you attempted to slam the door shut with the force of your shoulder but the action proved futile when the aggressor’s strength pushed back against the wood, sending you stumbling backwards and vulnerable to any attack.

Heavy footsteps creeped eerily towards you out of something from a horror film. Your worst mistake was turning your back, scrambling for a way to retrieve your phone, or even a weapon.

“Help! He-”

The stranger was more agile than you had assumed, easily capturing you with one arm around your waist and its hand cupped against your mouth. You couldn’t shake the terror growing within you as hot tears seemed to spill down your cheeks and your heartbeat so intense, you were sure that it’d had been noticeable.

Your body soft in the assaulter’s touch, they embraced your body taut. The sensation was suffocating, your eyes squeezed shut to further distance yourself from the situation at hand, even if it was only a mental trick.

You resided in a relatively safe area, so why were you in this situation? What cruel joke were you the target of?

The grip on your body loosened ever so slightly, yet you were still fixed in place by the attacker’s opposite hand. While your body was immobilized, you felt the lingering of metal lightly drag against your abdomen to find itself settled just underneath the band of your lace pajamas.

Just moments prior, you had completed your elaborate nightly routine consisting of a glass of wine, face mask, and a warm bath. You also found it fitting to change into one of your newer pajama sets — Thin, baby pink, lace bralette with matching shorts that called for forgoing the need for panties.

All you wanted was to wake up from this nightmare.

“It’d be so beautiful if you died right here in my arms,” Your assailant spoke.

Through your ears, his voice was familiar. A tone so soft, you refused to believe the possibility of who it’s owner could be.

His hand over your mouth was hesitant to situate itself elsewhere in wariness of how you’d react. He was aware of the power behind a blood-curdling scream. The neighbors in this area were nosy. He would know.

He let out a sigh. “But you look really pretty tonight. I wouldn’t want to get blood on you,” His knife trailed further into your shorts, the edge cutting out a hole in the fabric at the seat of the garment.

“Did you do all this for me?”

You winced when the sonority of cloth ripping resonated through your ears. The blade felt dangerously close, running along your body as if to taunt you. That had to be the case; You were in the perfect position to be harmed, so why hadn’t your attacker done so? With your body stricken from fear, his job was easy. Was it not?

The hand over your mouth moved to caress your face and you gasped heavily for the air you were denied.

“W-What do you want?” Your voice echoed shakily throughout the room, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. His knife inched upward to your sternum, and slowly dragged itself back down to your abdomen as he spoke.

“To see what your insides look like.”

For a split second, his hold on you seemed to diminish, granting you the perfect opportunity to run. Yet, your legs felt frail as if there were weights tied to your ankles. The assailant quickly repositioned himself in front of you, his head tilting slightly while he continued his up and down ministrations with the edge of the blade gingerly pressed against your flesh. Not forceful enough to draw blood.

“But maybe now, I want to feel your insides,” His steps crept closer, and instinctively you tried to create as much distance as possible by stepping back. It proved useless when your back hit the cold surface of the door, his face mere centimeters from yours.

Your breath hitched as you found comfort in the presence of the door, leaning against it as if it’d keep you from harm’s reach. You fidgeted, fumbling to grasp at the handle that’d grant you escape. The masked man took notice, hovering over your frame to keep you from trying anything.

“Please- -” Your plea fell in the form of a choked up whimper, just the sound he wanted to hear.

More uncomfortable ripping was sounded when his blade etched a perfect cut in your shorts, leaving your bare cunt out on display for his eyes to see. “Don’t be shy, pretty. I’m sure lots of guys have seen you like this. Am I right?”

Crudeness started to sink in as your face morphed into a contradictory pout. He took your expression for a no and chuckled genuinely, albeit louder than his previous tone. “No? Does this make me the first?” His eyes scanned your lower half once more, then flit back to meet your fear-blown orbs.

“I’d really love to be your first,”

Having grown confident enough to be sure that you wouldn’t try to break free, he dropped the knife to the side, metal clamorously clinking against hardwood flooring while he used his free hand to lift your right leg over the juncture of his elbow. He carefully slotted his middle and ring fingers into your hole, shallowly pumping. Your legs threatened to close with what you couldn’t make of embarrassment or denial.

Your mind felt cloudy once your body gave up its immobility and allowed pleasure to course through your veins, heat rushing to your core with every pump of his fingers. He took notice of the way your expression hastily contorted into one of pure pleasure, eyebrows knit together and your mouth slightly agape, eliciting quiet moans to tumble past.

It was a whorish sight, indeed. A circumstance you couldn’t control with your death at the forefront, yet it was terrifyingly easy to succumb to the euphoric sensation building up within you. The pad of his thumb found its way to your aching clit, and from just the light circling motions in tandem with his fingers, you felt yourself floating to the cusp of release.

“F-Fuck- -“ you rasped. Your hand reached out for his wrist to push him away but the attempt was futile and in turn, he sped up his ministrations.

“Didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth. You’re making me lose interest.” He coyly teased.

He was thankful you couldn’t see how flushed his face appeared under the mask. The sight of you spread open for him was too much to bear, he could cum in that moment without ever feeling your gummy walls wrapped around his painstakingly hard cock.

Just before you were about to hit your orgasm, he pulled his fingers away. An agitated groan rumbled from your throat, eyes finally opening to the sight of the man before you, removing his mask and unveiling his true identity.

Something within you didn’t want to admit what you had seen.

From the golden strands of hair that shimmered against the moonlight to his cyan-hued orbs tinted dark with madness. It was Armin, but it wasn’t Armin.

“M-Min.. You —“ The words failed to leave your mouth in a coherent string of sentences. It couldn’t have been your neighbor, not Armin. He was far too delicate, too feeble to carry out a task like this.

He kept unwavering eye contact with you, your pupils shaking from shock. “Hm? Couldn’t see a thing with this mask on,” His response was that of nonchalance, his hand coming to caress your tear-stained cheeks.

“You’re much prettier behind the mesh.”

He pulled down the zipper of his slacks along with the garment itself and his briefs, just enough so that his cock was freed. You didn’t want to look, but you did. You notice how bulbous the head was, glowing a bright pink while the rest of it was pretty girthy as well. It bobbed under its weight, the strings of precum leaking onto your inner thighs as he lined it up with your entrance.

“Why would y—“

Just before you could get the vocables out, he pushed his entire length inside of you, head tilted back and adam’s apple bouncing with each groan he let out. You felt as though you were being split open by how fat his cock was, how it glided effortlessly in and out of your heat.

His pace was tauntingly slow as if he’d shoot his load prematurely. Once he gradually thrusted more vigorously though, you found it hard to keep whimpers at bay. Each push in felt deeper than the last, the wind within your system struggling to keep you afloat. You reached for something to hold onto, scrambling for Armin’s shoulders in the end. Your nails dug deep at the lean muscles of his back, creating raw, catlike scratches on the flesh.

The pain was enough to make him smile. Or maybe it wasn’t the pain, but the sight of you so desperate for him — So desperate for your killer.

How pathetic.

He leaned himself upward to meet your gaze again, that of something from a horror movie, his gaze was darker than before, strung together by a serious expression. “Kiss me.”

You almost didn’t hear him as your impending orgasm was your only focus. When you took too long to respond, he glanced back at the knife settled just underneath his foot, in a manner to remind you of the real dangers he was capable of.

With the slightest inclination of hesitancy, your lips met his. Contrary to his actions, his kisses were soft, sloppy, and hungry, as if he were craving you. He hooked his arms beneath your knees to hoist you up and against him.

Deeper. You whimpered into his kisses wondering how his cock fucked into you deeper. He slammed your body down onto his length, using your body like it was a toy. You pulled away from the kiss, heaving for air as your head fell upon his shoulder. “Gonna cum, ‘m so close!” Your words slurred, and before you knew it, your essence came in waves, each aftershock more jolting than the last.

He continued pounding into you, shifting his position to hold you up against the wall. Your pleasure reverberated in the form of an inaudible cry while you allowed for the bullying of his cock in your cunt. It was evident to you that he was close from the way his features were etched in pure ecstasy.

Armin looked pretty like that — Wisps of tawny bangs messily splayed across his forehead from perspiration and a light tinge of scarlet dusted across his nose and cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. His soft, rosy lips were slickened with the mixture of your wet kiss and his.

“Oh, God-”

The guttural groan he let out had your walls clamping down taut around him. “Cum for me again—Shit! Say my name,”

The stamina he retained came as unexpected to you, your overstimulated heat trying to find pleasure in the way it’s being battered up. He spoke again, this time with a docile lilt in his tone.

“Tell me you’re mine, Y/N. I wanna be yours.”

You didn’t want to. You were beyond opposed to feeding into his hedonistic delusions, especially in the impuissant state that you were in. Yet, you couldn’t stop the affirmations from flowing once another orgasmic high coiled up in your core.

“Armin! ‘M yours! All yours,”

Just as soon as your words circulated through his mind, he felt his balls tighten, his thrusts faltering in potency as he reached closer to his high.

In his mind, it was profoundly amorous that you both had hit euphoria simultaneously, warm ropes of his sticky seed painting your walls while he shallowly jettisoned every last drop. Your womb was the goal, and he had scored.

He was tentative to pull out, wanting to relish in the warmth of your core for as long as he possibly could but he knew the idea wouldn’t be feasible. “You’re so good. I mean, you listen so well,”

He delicately placed you back on your feet, your body lax in his hold. “Thank you!” He beamed, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze.

“Thank you for what?” You responded, your eyes searching for anything else to focus on as you gained enough strength to separate yourself from him, even if it was just a few inches.

“You helped me,”

You couldn’t make sense of the nonsense coming out of his mouth nor his need to be a hair's breadth away from you at all times.

“You helped me realize I never wanted to hurt you,” His hands found their place at your waist, softly running along the curve. “I just wanted to be inside you.”

“No, you wanted to kill me.” You spoke in a more conflicted tone, wondering if the gears in his head were turning at all. He chuckled, creating a few inches of distance between the two of you.

“I mean, I did at first. I was jealous, Y/N,” His voice sounded like that of a beg. “You have such a perfect life and I want it — I want to be in it.”

You couldn’t bear to listen to anymore of his twisted thoughts, feeling the heavy coat of uncomfortability weighing your shoulders down. “Armin, you’re crazy.”

“I love you, Y/N. Let me into your life, please?”

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his hands furthering south until they halted at the small of your back.

“I won’t hurt you,”

“I love you.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — @valentinevampyr @oneofthesevensins @iamtrashgod @iconicbabii @inusdoll @kloesklarity @bakuhoe-3 @antistellxr

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sunnymoonxx · 11 months

Note

can you write something like hobie ‘using’ reader (consensually ofc) and degrading her? no pressure if it’s too much :) thank youuu 🩷

cold rings | hobie brown x fem!reader

pairing: hobie brown x fem!reader

summary: porn without a plot

warnings: degradation, objefixation (mentions of being used), rough sex, little praising, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it kids), oral fem receiving, oral male receiving, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, hair pulling, teasing

author's note: First thing, I'd love to thank @hanasnx for correcting me and apologise for not crediting him first. I took a big inspiration from Indy's oneshot Moth To A Flame (Hobie Brown), and I definitely recommend you check out his blog out. I adore their writing <333

I solemnly believe Hobie is a sweetheart and a sub and loves to watch you do anything to him, but since he's a punk, there's a high chance he's into BDSM. Also, he was finally confirmed to be 20, so we're the same age woohoouu. Enjoy my try for a readable smut <333

m.list

You laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, shivering slightly as the chilly weather crept into your room, but the warm sunset light falling into your window provided some solace. You wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets, leaning your body towards the tall figure sitting next to you.

The spikes on his bracelet met your skin, cold to the touch as he wrapped his arm around you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. You could feel his chin on the top of your head, pulling you closer to him, relaxing in his arms. He was warm, and the cold quickly left your body. You smiled, closing your eyes right before his hand slipped down your body to play with the hem of your tank top, twisting it between his fingers.

You couldn't bother to wear anything else than lavender-colored panties and a black tank top that didn't reach further than your ribs. You couldn't judge Hobie after he made fun of you for being cold. It was purely just your fault.

"Didn't Jess want us to be at the HQ by dusk?" You mumbled into Hobie's shoulder, carefully scanning his long fingers, now outlining the fabric of your panties, tickling your lower stomach.

"Prolly," he responded, you could hear him smiling while answering you. You knew Hobie for too long to know he doesn't do anything he's told to do. Unless it's you. Any words that come from your mouth, he is determined to fulfill. "Rather be with you, tho." Kissing the top of your head, his hand moved back up to sweep the hair strands falling into your eyes.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, lifting yourself on your arms to take a proper look at your companion. His legs manspreading on your bed like he owns the place, his right arm still laid out on the headboard, and a smirk on his lips. You had to hold back a smile, biting your cheek, and looking into his big brown eyes.

"Miguel will beat your ass," you uttered, sitting straight, your knees bent under you and touching his. "And mine." You added not amused by the boredom in his expression. You shared his annoyance towards the Spider Society, but you didn't want to get your ass beaten by a big-ass leader whose claws could tear anyone apart. You already tested his patience last time, and you weren't in the mood for another discussion of how useless you are.

"Babe, don't worry about it," He saw your smiley expression turn into a face of concern and decided to comfort you. He threw himself away from the board leaning towards you, grabbing your hands in his and caressing your palm with his thumb. "S'gon be okay and also, when did a little trouble scare you?" he tilted his head, awaiting your reaction.

"Never," you shook your head, adding a dramatic tone to your voice. You leaned to give Hobie a quick kiss on his lips before jumping out of the bed and walking around the room to find your suit. "But I don't wanna be sent home just because I didn't meet his stupid deadlines, Hobes." You spoke, bending down to open a box with your suit in it. Wrinkled and dirty from the last mission, you totally forgot to clean it. But this time, it was Hobie's fault after he dragged you into his place after you finished your mission to release some steam. He was partly the reason why your suit was torn up in certain places.

Hobie leaned back again against the headboard, arms behind his head as he enjoyed the view of you bending down, your panties barely covering your ass.

"I'll make you your own watch," he uttered, not taking his eyes off you as you turned around to face him, throwing your suit on the bed. "Let him kick you out, and we can visit each other any day." A smile played across his lips as he crawled to you, towering over you, and pulling you closer to him by holding your waist. You could feel his breath because of how close he was and his cold rings touching your lower back. You couldn't smile at his idea, lips forming into a light smile. You wanted to protest and say you can't afford it, but he shut you up by leaning into you, his lips meeting your ear. "I'd finally have proper time to take care of you," he whispered into your ear, his hand sliding down to grab your ass. Chills traveled down your spine as you heard his voice and the cold jewelry on his hands meeting your ass.

You couldn't help but moan at his action and be rewarded by Hobie's cocky smile and his hands traveling under your panties to hold your bare ass properly. As many times as Hobie touched you, it always felt like the first time. His long, slim fingers slid down your skin, playing with the hem of your clothes, playing with your hair, or fingering you while lying beneath him. You always ended up begging for more, and he devoured every sound you made.

Words began to form on your tongue but quickly again disappeared when Hobie attacked your neck and started leaving light kisses on your skin. You leaned into his touch, mind blank, forgetting about the suit ready on your bed, and Jess probably waiting for the both of you to show up. Now, all your thoughts were full of Hobie's lips, already on your collarbones, and his fingers still holding your ass.

"Hobie," a moan left your lips as he moved his hand up to pull away the straps of your tank top down your shoulders. He stopped all his movements, looking up at you with concern in his eyes. You bent down to give him a proper kiss, pushing him back against the mattress, your weight falling on his. Both of you let out a surprised gasp, his hands grabbing you more tightly than before.

"I'll stay," you whispered against his lips, lifting yourself to sit on your knees on his lap while he laid beneath you. You could see the sudden change in his face, a smile glowing on his lips. "But," He raised his eyebrows, confused and waiting for what you were about to say. His hands moved back to hold your ass, your already wet core so close to his reach.

"Remember last time? At the dorm?" you asked, hoping he'd remembered. But you doubted he would forget you beginning as he pounded into you against the wall and called you names, you'd be too ashamed to admit you like being called.

As expected, he tilted his head, scanning your face to find out if you were joking. When he decided you were not, he nodded his head. "Could never forget that," he joked, gripping your ass harder and pushing you against his growing crotch, gasp leaving your mouth.

You bent down, hands on his chest as you whispered against his full lips, your teeth gently tugging on his cold piercing. "I want you to do it again. Use me like you did back then." You closed your eyes as you felt his lips move against yours, his hands moving up to hold your waist.

"You sure?" he asked gently, wanting to know you're certain about your wish. You didn't waste any second and gripped his shirt, pulling yourself closer to his body. Hoping that serves as an answer.

You felt Hobie smile against you as the kiss deepened, growing more passionate and fuller of desire. You needed to feel his touch, his tongue, his fingers, his cold rings against your skin.

"Hobes, please," you whispered as his hands slipped up your tank top, caressing the skin of your underboob, teasing you. Testing how much you can take. His other hand traveled from your waist to find your hair, pulling them down so he could have more access to your neck. You let out a moan as he kept pulling your hair, holding your head thrown back. His lips attached to your neck, leaving wet trails as he moved down slowly.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice deeper and more demanding. It made your walls clench over nothing. His hand under your tank top finally moved up, your hard nipple meeting his cold rings. You gasped, closing your eyes, digging your nails into his thighs. His thumb ran over your nipple while still assaulting your neck with painfully slow kisses.

"Touch me, please." You begged between moans before you felt Hobie's lips move away from your neck and let off your hair. His brown eyes, now darker than a few minutes before, pupils dilated, stared back into yours, a smirk playing on his face.

"Barely done anything, and you're so needy already." Tilting his head, holding back a smile. His gaze fell, where your crotch met his, thoughts playing in his head.

"Pathetic," he mumbled to himself before grabbing you by the waist and throwing you under him, your back meeting your soft mattress. Hair spread on the bedsheets; legs spread for Hobie to fit in between. Your tank top slid up, exposing half of your boobs and if Hobie looked down, he could've seen the wet spot between your legs.

"You look a fucking mess." You watched him draw his fingers alongside your tank top, moving them down to meet the lace of your panties. You waited patiently for his next move, moving your hips against his hand for some friction. But he caught your action and pulled his hands away. You rolled your eyes at the frustration, pushing away the desire to finish this by yourself. But you asked for this, and Hobie always respected your wishes. No matter how twisted they were.

"Hobie, please just," Your tone was filled with annoyance, which made Hobie laugh, admiring how needy and beautiful you were for him. Lying there, leg spread out, tits out, waiting to be fucked like a whore.

"I'm gonna do what I want," he grabbed your cheeks, eyes staring into your soul. "And you will take it." His dominant voice traveled straight to your core, wanting nothing else than to be filled by him. Nodding your head, you didn't protest and let Hobie place his fingers back on your skin, teasing you for minutes before his fingers finally landed at your inner thighs. You were now sure he saw how wet you are, dripping through the panties.

"Fuck," he let out a sigh when he saw the mess you made on your underwear. "You're so predictable." His laugh filled the room followed by a gasp when his fingers touched your clothed cunt.

"D'you like it?" He raised his eyebrows, not taking his eyes off of your cunt. You nodded to answer his question, gripping the bed sheet from the frustration you felt. If Hobie won’t pleasure in the next few minutes you swear you were going to go crazy and do it yourself. Your irritation wasn’t hard to see and Hobie decide to spare you from the torture. You could barely catch him kneeling and ripping of your panties, throwing them away to the pile of clothes from earlier days. Your wet cunt now revealed to him and exposed to the chilly air in the room.

“Fuck,” he breathed out his hands spreading your legs further from each other. You lifted your head to watch him, finding him laying between your legs and taking one of his bigger rings, holding it between his thumb and his middle finger. You were confused at first as to why he took it off until you felt him slide it down your dripping clit. The coldness of the ring sent shivers down your spine and made you tremble.

“Jesus, Hobie.” You gasped, his cold ring still touching your slit. Head falling into the pillows you let yourself relax while Hobie kept working on your cunt with his ring. You could feel his breath, his lips, and his tongue so close to your soaked clit.

Hobie liked seeing you struggle under his touch, but he couldn’t feel sad for torturing you, so he quickly pressed his lips against you, drawing a moan out of you. He could drown between your legs, thighs crushing him. As if you already weren’t a mess, he added a finger, circling your wet core to coax it to loosen. “When you’re away I daydream about this.” His deep voice sent vibrations through your cunt, making you groan his name out. He took advantage of you being distracted by his words to shove his finger inside of you, your moans spreading across the room. His tongue stopped the movements on your clit, quickly being replaced by his thumb. As much as he loved tasting you and devouring your cunt, he wanted to watch you quiver underneath him. Under his fingers. So needy to be fulfilled.

Adding another finger to stretch you out, you grab his arm to stable yourself as your eye roll to the back of your head, overwhelmed by his finger pumping in and out of you. “Like it? Fucking your cunt with my fingers?” he asked, mockingly, smiling at you trembling, all because of his fingers.

“Yes, fuck.” You cried out, Hobie’s fingers speeding, curing inside of you hitting all the right stops. He was sure people outside the apartment could hear your cries, and he loved the idea of them knowing you were getting fucked and used by him. All his to take.

“So desperate,” he laughs at you, stopping his fingers but leaving them inside of you. Your head flew up, your face filled with confusion and frustration. You were so close, he could feel it, but he decided to let you cum only around his cock. He made the decisions tonight. You did as he said.

Without answering he took you by the waist and turned you around, on all fours, ass up. You tried to calm your breath and compose yourself, mad he didn’t let you cum. You felt the heat in your stomach fading away as you waited for Hobie to take you. You practically begged for him, crying for his dick to fill you up.

“Music to my ears.” He whispered into your ear, moving back behind you, admiring the view. Your ass ready to be fucked, your cunt wet, walls clenching around nothing. “All mine,” he murmured, and you could hear him playing with his belt, his pants falling to the floor.

“Yours.” You confirmed, resting your head on your hands, pleading for him to finally fuck you and use your cunt like he did many nights ago. You know he’s just toying with you, testing your patience which is about to run out. You hear his silent laugh and the next thing you know; his cock is spreading you out, deep inside of your cunt. The delicious stretch draws a moan out of you, your head covered in the pillows.

He waits for a few seconds, letting you adjust him before he starts thrusting into you, slowly starting to pick up speed. His hands on your waist, cold rings touching your skin, and his cock buried deep inside of you.

“Fuck, could do this all day.” He moans, his thrusts becoming faster and rougher. "Feels good?" he asks as he leans in to grab your hair and pull it back. "Getting fucked by me." He continues, not stopping fucking you hard, his thick cock spreading you out, tears streaming down your face from the pleasure. You couldn't even speak, as his cock kept sliding in and out of you, only focused on how good he felt inside of you.

"Like being used by me, huh." He knew you loved it. He knew how much you liked being called degradatory names, letting him spread your cunt and fuck you senseless. One of your favorite thing to do.

"Yes, Hobie," you screamed out as his cock hit your cervix hard, deeper now than ever before. His one hand still pulls your hair as his other keep your ass in place so he can pound into you like crazy. "Fucking love it when you use me like that." You let out between moans, closing your eyes,

"Fucking whore," He doesn't stop as he slides his finger under your belly to feel himself in you. The pressure of it makes your walls clench, orgasm approaching. You don't even notice his hand moves down until you feel him rubbing your sensitive clit. You were still so wet, basically dripping to the bedsheets.

"Such a good whore for taking my cock like that," he says out loud, pulling you up to press your back against his chest. His hand quickly travels up to hold your bouncing tits, playing with your nipples as he fucks into you deeper, knowing he's gonna cum soon too. "Your pussy feels so good around me." Whispering in your ear, biting into your earlobe. His cold piercing tickles your neck, making you shiver. You feel overstimulated, but it only brings you closer to your peak.

"Your fucking whore. Fuck me like your personal toy." Tears coming down from your eyes, enjoying the way Hobie fucks you like you're his personal sex toy. Like you're his possession and only he can fuck you like that.

"That's right, you're mine. Mine to take and fuck." He growls into your ear, his thrusts becoming sloppy, alerting you he's close to orgasm. And you are too, as your knees start to give up and your body weakens, under Hobie's restless cock spreading you out fast and hard.

"Fill me up, Hobie." As on command, he cums into you, filling you up with his seed. You follow him right after, falling back to your bed, letting the pleasure take over. Hobie doesn't hold you anymore and lets your knees give up on you. His cum dripping down from your cunt mixed with your own. Ass red, hair, messy, and nail marks on your hips. Marked as his. Mark as his to take.

You lay there for a few minutes, the body still trembling from the hard orgasm, until you feel Hobie fall next to you, cloth in his hands. He also looks tired, his cheeks red and eyes lighter now. You lift yourself to move closer to him, your lips meeting his.

"Thank you, Hobes." Smiling against his lips, you feel his hand move to your lower back.

"Ask more often, please. Feels fucking awesome." He jokes, now playing with your sweaty hair, which reminds him. "Look like shit, we need a shower."

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #into the spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spider punk #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #smut #spiderman itsv #hobie brown atsv #atsv x reader

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iloveinej · 2 months

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Unquenchable

Theodore Nott x reader

Catagory: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: Handjob, dom!reader, they're in looove

Summary: Theodore and her venture down a path they'd never stepped upon. Because of Theodore's insatiable desire and her new night dress.

Words: 3,7k

AN: I have nothing to say. Enjoy.

She could feel his eyes on her, even if he tried to hide them by reading the book resting between his fingers. She didn't know why he was so inclined to always have his eyes on her. Especially when she was only brushing her teeth, lather covering her lips and running down her chin. She didn't look attractive at all.

But what she didn't realize was that the silky, skintight nightgown she wore gave Theodore the perfect view of the behind of her thighs. And the fabric ended right below her behind, teasing Theodore's poor old heart to death.

It was the first she had ever worn something so revealing, especially in front of him. Usually, she buried herself in her brother's old clothes and rags, finding them to be the most comfortable clothing.

And not that she didn't look dashing in those, but this was new territory for Theodore, and he wasn't taking it very well.

His heart was increasingly picking up speed and the apples of his cheeks were burning with either shame or lust, which one he didn't know. He was lucky that the duvet was covering the lower part of his body, otherwise, his desire would be much harder to hide than it already was.

(Name) threw a last, suspicious glance in Theodore's way, noticing his clenched jaw, before leaning over the tap and spitting the remains of the toothpaste out before washing it off her lips. Then she sauntered out of the bathroom, closing the door and absentmindedly rubbing her eye out of exhaustion.

Theodore's eyes were glued to her face as she floated around the room, blowing out the warm candles that were scattered on her many shelves and drawers, slowly inciting the room into a solace of darkness. The only thing helping her see being the last candle on the nightstand, which she waited to blow out.

Instead, she lifted her side of the duvet and crawled under, glowing at the warmth it provided. As an extra procedure turned over to Theodore and efficiently latched onto his bare side, her arm hugging around his torso and her head being buried in between his neck and shoulder.

It wasn't often that they got a chance to be with each other during the night times because of Hogwarts rules and the partition between the boys, girls, and different houses. This is why these moments are always highly appreciated, no matter where, how, or when.

Her nose, lips, and forehead rest comfortably on his pulse point, ears perking at every beat of his heart and bathing in the comfort of being so close to him. She doesn't think about how fast it is beating, or how Theodore's breathing is slightly uneven. Before, when she lay down, she didn't notice how he directed her legs when she wrapped herself around him so that she wouldn't accidentally grace his, at the moment, very sensitive area.

"Are you done reading soon?" She asked, his skin muffling her words and the air tickling his neck. And he raised his arm which he formerly circled her and stroked her hair back, his eyes stuck on the pages. "Only two pages left. Then I'm all yours."

A girlish smile lit up her face and she buried herself even deeper into his neck, not letting Theodore see how easily he made her insides melt and her face heat.

And as promised, after reading the last two pages of the chapter, he closed the book and put it on the floor. And (Name) took the honor of leaving his side and blowing out the last candles, this time letting the room be cast in a shadow.

Theodore eyes were glued on the back of her body as she leaned forwards, and painfully remembered the hard piece of trouble that throbbed between his legs. Before, when she was pushed up against him and his eyes actually could focus on the words in his book, he had forgotten how turned on he was. But it seemed everything she did right now made his pent-up mind turn to the less innocent part of his brain.

(Name) stopped all her movements when a large palm placed itself between her shoulder blades and gently pressed. Not to push her, but to feel her skin, how her muscles moved beneath his hand. The hand travels from its place in the middle of her back, up to her neck. Her arms gained goosebumps when Theodore cupped her neck between his fingers and thumb, fingertips almost reaching to her throat.

A sigh of delight is all she can muster when he rubs circles into her neck, carefully turning her head towards him. His black pupils had taken over his iris, only leaving a rim of his brown-stained, lust-blown eyes. Those eyes were something unfamiliar, something (Name) had never seen before. Not even in their most passionate moments, which to his dismay had only been the hidden snogging in the corner of the school library where she could guarantee that none of her siblings were watching.

The hand behind her neck traveled to her shoulder, and she swallowed when he gently pushed her down into the pillows. And she held her breath and watched with bug eyes as he crawled on top of her, positioning himself between her legs, and laying his arms on either side of her face to keep his body from crushing her.

And he stared at her, intense eyes locking with hers as if they were trying to tell her something, to imply something. And she didn't understand, but the tension in the air made her crazy and she longed to snap it like a twig between her fingers.

She let her hand travel from her side, up to the back of his delicate neck. She mimicked the hold he had on her before, and gently pushed him closer so that she could claim his lips with her own

Warmth and relief spread like wildfire in her stomach when Theodore returned her kiss with more eagerness and power than she had ever seen him do before. A sigh of delight escaped her nose, and she basked in the love Theodore provided for her every day, every minute to every second.

Her arms encircled his neck, and she slowly pulled him closer, letting him rest all his weight on her body. He moaned airily into her mouth, and (Name) saw it as an opportunity to let her tongue invade his mouth. She could feel how he melted against her body as she took control, forcing the kiss to become deeper, more sensual as she massaged his tongue with hers.

Theodore didn't know what to do with himself, for he had never experienced someone taking such control over him. Both body and mind were completely devoted to her and he had no longer any wish to think for himself, only to let her lead him through.

Slowly but surely, she slowed the kiss down, and Theodore found himself frowning when she disconnected their lips entirely. Spit collected on her bottom lip and without breaking their intimate eye contact, he leaned down and sucked the liquid off her lip. A sweet, closed-mouth moan echoed in her throat and Theodore felt how his hardness throbbed in his boxers.

"If you only could understand how absurdly amazing you make me feel." He mumbled with lidded eyes.

Her chest was heaving against his bare one, and she looked at him as if he was the reason for all the good in the world and all the good in her life. His skin erupted in flames and he, once again, leaned down although this time connecting his lips with the column of her throat.

A hand buried itself in her locks and she had no choice but to close her eyes as his lips traveled along her neck, at first only planting innocent pecks, letting his rosy lips leave invisible prints on her skin. Before he found the point right under her jaw and sucked.

"Oh, Theo." She simpered as he sucked, licked, and kissed the space, abusing it as a way of showing his love.

Her words made his hand tighten in her hair, and whilst she loved the attention she was receiving, she wanted to have more control. Theodore needed to be the princess for once. The one who would just stand there and accept the kisses and love. So she slowly enclosed her legs around his hips, squeezing him with her thighs as her hand traveled to his hair.

"You're always so good to me, taking care of me. And I love you so, so much." He sighed shakily into her neck, both because of the praise and also because of his crotch that was now pressed up against hers, and he needed almost all of his control to not grind into her and provide to his inextinguishable thirst for her.

"You own me, you own my body and you're the only thing on my mind." Theodore sucked harder on her neck, teeth grazing the blue area.

"And I own you, Theodore." And it was his downfall. He couldn't help himself but let his hips grind into hers and he grunted at the immense pleasure that spread along his stomach. And after that, he couldn't stop. Like he had been cursed, he continued to push himself against her, a secret fantasy of being inside of her, feeling her walls around his cock pushing him to continue.

"Please." He begged." Please let me make love to you." She almost choked on her tongue at his confession, and that accompanied by the pressure of Theodore's hips grinding into her made her mind foggy.

"I would to have you." A breath got caught in her throat as pressure once more ripped through her body. "But I don't want our first to be in the same house as my parents." The movement of his body came to a slow halt, trying to control himself and respect her wishes. A few playfully pecs were placed on her collarbones and a giggle escaped her lips at the tickling of his lips.

He pulled away from her body and met her eyes, intense gaze making her confidence waver and her body heat soar. Just for a moment, she contemplated to let him have her right in her childhood bed. To let him have his way with her. But with the ounce of self-control left in her body, she stayed in her decision with the knowledge it could bring more problems than pleasure. For him, her, and the rest of the family.

A hard kiss on her lips broke her out of the daze, and Theodore gently rolled off her body, settling at her side with him facing her.

"You sure it's alright?" She asked lightly, fingers tracing the shape of his nose. Her eyes did discreetly look down his body lightly gesturing to his crotch. With fingers under her chin, he lifted her face to his again, this time placing a lighter pec on her forehead.

"I'm sure, I'm here with you that's all I need. Nothing more."

"Are sure? Otherwise, you can-"

"I'm sure, never been more sure." With a gentle smile on her lips, she nodded, eyes fluttering shut when Theodore continued with her previous movements, fingers tracing her nose. "Go to sleep."

But she couldn't sleep. It was impossible. Butterflies were racing against her inner organs, in her belly and other places she had never felt the tickling feeling in. Her entire body was buzzing. Just the thought of her making the boy next to her so troubled, in a good way, was thrilling. Because he's Theodore, the attractive, brilliant, and kind Slytherin who everyone wanted to be or to be with. And he chooses her.

The boy next to her shuffled in the bed, body turning so his back faced her. She played as still as possible so he wouldn't notice her being awake, or to wake him for that matter.

But just when she was sure he was sound asleep, he sat up in the bed, throwing his legs over the edge and her heart beat in worry when his head hung lowly into his hands. She was about to lay a comforting hand on his back but he stood up before she had the time.

"Theo?" She asked and he turned around, startled by her voice. "You okay?"

A smile lit his face and he kneeled before her, kissing her lips quickly. "Just going to the bathroom." Even though her room was dark, the moonlight revealed an unmistakable redness on the apples of his cheeks and she looked down to see his problem still present, and once again her body erupted in a buzz.

Before he could walk away, she grabbed his hand, stopping him. He looked at her with a question in his eyes, and she looked away in shyness.

"I can- I can help you if you want?" Her big eyes raked over his face, waiting for an answer while his face displayed a handful of different emotions.

"You don't have to, I don't want to force you." She flushed at his gentleness, but couldn't dismiss the new, lustful edge in his voice.

"I want to help you. Alright? I want you." When he didn't say anything, she tugged his hand towards her, enough so one of his knees met the mattress.

"Do you want me too?" Her voice took a change and her eyes searched in his. As an answer, Theodore grabbed her throat and pulled her into a searing kiss, tongue licking over her lips when he pulled away.

"I want you to, need you, truly." And he was about to go into a second kiss, but she stopped him with a finger to his lips.

"Good. But on one condition." He listened idly, lips kissing on the pad of her finger. "You have to be quiet, at all cost. You can't make a sound, if you do I'll have to stop."

She gently positioned him on his back, brain going ten miles on hour at the newfound confidence, at the newfound domination. He nodded slowly and his eyes were hooded with the lust of anticipation.

Thedore was a naturally dominant person per se. In their relationship, in his life, and in his friend group. With a hand on her back, he guided her the way he wanted, and with the preeminence in his voice, she found it hard to deny him. But now, with his panting chest and pleading puppy dog eyes, she wondered where Theodore went, without complaining of course.

With shaky hands and Theodore's eyes intently on her, she reached for the edge of his underwear, fingers picking at his waistband. Her knees clenched together when Thedore put both his arms behind his head, face shining with confidence. And in the most loving way possible, a small part of her wanted to break it down.

Slowly, she pulled the underwear down, with the help of Theodore raising his hips. When she laid eyes on his crotch, she swallowed and looked at Theodore, who had his lip in his teeth.

As if he could see her hesitation, he gave her a nod. "It's okay, Lovie, you can touch me."

And in pure curiousness, she let the tips of her fingers run up his length, feeling the warmth emitting from his body. A gasp made way from his mouth and he threw his head into the pillow. In fear of believing she hurt him, she pulled back, hand landing on his thigh.

"Theo? Sorry did I hurt you? I didn't mean to." She stressed, massaging his thigh in comfort. But he only shook his head, trying to slow his increased breath.

"No, no don't stop." His voice cracked pitifully as he pleaded, but she wasn't convinced.

"Theo Im not su-"

"Please for the love of Merlin, touch me. I swear I'm going to explode." The doubt was replaced with fire in her entire body. And she did the same movement again, running her fingers up his length.

Once again, a gasp escaped his lips, and a rare, blissful expression covered his face. His eyebrows scrunched upwards and a small smile on his open mouth.

And she wanted more of this reaction, craved it even. So she continued to run her fingertips up and down, biting her lip to hide her smile at his panting and puffing.

"Come on, love, I know you can do more than that." He didn't. But she could do more. She met his eyes, who were intently, expectantly staring into her. Like he was daring her. Holding his eye, she took a loose grip on his cock, doing an experimental stroke.

His eyes snapped to where his body met her hands, and a small, low moan forced itself from his lips. So low she almost missed it, but she's glad she didn't. She forced her thighs together, rocking back and forth as she began to twist her wrist to give Theo relief along with herself.

He only continues to stare at her moving hand, his stomach and thighs flexing with pleasure. And she notices, of course, she does, and lets her free land on the place connecting his pelvis and thigh, slowly massaging it to get him relaxed. It does quite the opposite.

He throws his head back, straight into the pillow. "Fuck." He whispers as one of his hands clenches around the sheet.

Without even meaning to, she speeds up her hand movements, her body reacting automatically to his pleasure. And he bucks into her hand at the new feeling, a groan, louder than before resonated pleasantly in her ear.

"Merlin, shit what the fuck are you doing to me." He moaned desperately, taking satisfaction in her warm palm, in the intense feeling in his pelvis and length. In his entire body. It was like he was high.

She giggled lightly, bashfully continuing her stroking without a notion of how the sound affected him.

An idea formed in her head, a memory of a knowledge Theo himself revealed not long ago at all. She took her other hand, which was stroking his thigh, and gripped it above the hand on his lenght, and let her thumb run over his tip, using a little pressure

And Theodore let out a moan, a borderline whine. And it didn't stop.

She continued the abuse on his tip, along with rapid strokes of his length, and different types of whines, groans and moans left him, one after one. And they were loud, too loud.

"Shhh, Theo you need to quiet down." Deep down she knew he wouldn't, especially with her continued stimulation of his cock.

"Can't- Fuck. I can't, I can't." He cried head tilted down to take a peek at her hands. Bad Idea as his length throbbed in her hands, sending him into a new fit of moans.

So she stopped. Only as an attempt to quiet him.

But it left him unsatisfied and searching for stimulation, violently continuing to buck his hips for any kind of friction, sounds of complaint echoing in the room.

"Theo you said you could be quiet, so be quiet!" She whisper-yelled desperately, pushing his hips to still with one of her hands. But he just couldn't be quiet.

Now, he was instead whining over the lack of stimulation, thrashing his head from side to side at the lost feeling.

"Theo for the love of good shut up." At the sudden stern tone, he shut his mouth and turned to her, big puppy dog eyes staring at her with admiration.

They sat quietly as she listened after a single sound. But luckily, there was none. And she could let her shoulders relax.

"Good job Theo." She smiled, and pecked his lips, him chasing after her when she sat straight again.

The pace of her hands picked up again, and Theodore tried his utmost to keep his sounds down. But it was so difficult.

And he thought he would be able to hold himself quiet until her hands sped up greatly.

She watched with awe in her eyes as his eyes rolled back into his head, his hips vigorously meeting her wrist as he fucked her hand, moans of her name and whined curses fleeing his pink lips.

"Fuck. I th-think." His head arched into the mattress, interrupting his sentence with a moan. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-im-" She panicked as his voice took a turn for the loudest, and without thinking she slapped her hand over his mouth, although with a force that pushed his head further into the pillow.

His entire body twitched violently at the harsh gesture, and his eyelashes fluttered when white-hot pleasure overtook his entire life.

Without meaning to, he threw his hand over the one covering his mouth, gripping it tight as the other squeezed her thigh in a bruising grip. And he came with a long, guttural moan, straight into her hand as she continued to stroke him through his high. And she didn't stop, not until his body had stopped convulsing completely.

When he was done, his chest was heaving as he chipped for air, and she placed a concerned and clean hand on his chest, rubbing it slowly.

"You need to slow your breathing, don't need you to faint on me after that." He nodded lightly, head too heavy for anything else. He took her hand and bullied his breathing to a normal pace, even if it burned his lungs.

He forced his eyelids open, and her body, once again, flushed at the half-lidded look he gave her. As if she hung the moon and stars for him.

But, what he didn't know was she had a last trick up her sleeve. She raised her dirty hand to his lips and slowly and carefully licked every bit of him left on her hand.

Theodore let out a small gasp, and his handanded on her thigh massaging it to the erotic picture, fighting another hard-on with his life.

She leaned down and was about to connect her tongue to his lower abdomen, ready to lick the cum of his godly body. But she only had time to graze him before he took her cheeks in his hands, squeezing them while lifting her head in distress

"No no no!" He stressed, and she started at him with, big, questioning eyes." Fuck. I love you, but you're gonna get yourself another piece of trouble if I let you continue." A laugh of surprise jumped in her chest, looking down at her lap, her body warm and humble.

"Youre seriously amazing, you know that right." He breathed out, a smile in his voice. And a chuckle bumbled in her throat, head hazy with bliss.

She kissed his palm. "And I love you, lovie."

-----

So... That happened

733 notes · View notes

m00nlight-ramblings · 2 months

Text

Soul Meets Body

After the final battle with the Netherbrain, you and Halsin have found solace in what was once the Shadowlands. Domesticity and nature interweave with your every day life now that you are parents, but for the past few months, something has been missing. Halsin shows you how much he's missed your body.

Pairings: Halsin (dad!) x fem reader (plus sized after giving birth)

Warnings: SMUT, p in v sex, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, body image issues, swearing, angst, hurt/comfort. 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 5.2k

Requested: yes

A/N: As a plus sized fan fic writer, I hardly see plus sized stuff, especially for Halsin so I decided to write something! This fic deals HEAVILY with body image issues of a plus sized reader after giving birth, so please read with caution if that is a trigger for you! ALSO: based on notes and patch updates from Larian, the Shadowlands were renamed the Reclaimed Lands, and in original notes for Halsin, his last name was Silverborough! So that's why those details are included. Also also dad Halsin is my fave ok bye.

The sun hung high in the sky midday, casting beautiful shadows through the leaves of the trees. The nearby laughter of children cascaded throughout the village, leaving a permanent smile on your face wherever you went. Your baby Lora, wrapped snug in a sling on your chest, cooed as you weeded the perimeter of the village, tossing the uprooted plants in a basket for Halsin to use later on.

Little feet scampered past you, calling your name in greeting as you knelt in the soft earth. Every time a little voice graced your ears, you perked up - what a life you were now leading, filled with such hope and joy. You felt lucky from the moment you woke up, to the moment you went to bed, for three reasons: the beautiful children that graced the Reclaimed Lands, which was once the Shadowlands, your beautiful daughter Lora, and of course, Halsin.

Your life had taken on new meaning once the final battle against the Netherbrain was won. Throughout your journey, you thought that the one thing you wanted more than anything was to return to your old life - to go home to the familiarity of Baldur's Gate. But when you had met Halsin - and subsequently fell in love with him - everything had changed, and you found yourself back in the Reclaimed Lands with the Alderman himself, becoming the unofficial parents of more children you had ever expected to have.

Of course, some adults came to the Reclaimed Lands to start anew as well - people pushed out by the curse returning home, or some wanting a fresh start. The little village you now claimed as your own was growing by the week, and nothing filled your heart more than knowing the love you and Halsin had put into cultivating the safe space.

A mere two months after you had gone home to the Reclaimed Lands, you discovered you were with child, baring the tiny bulge of Halsin's baby. It was no surprise to either of you - the elf who wanted to do things "as nature intended" acted on those natural instincts as often as they found him, and the idea of starting a family together was something both you and him couldn't get out of your head.

Once you had become pregnant, Halsin was unsurprisingly the perfect partner. Caring and attentive, you never needed nor wanted for anything. As if he could read your mind, before you could even ask, Halsin would appear with whatever you seemed to crave. Whether it be the particular berries near the river you seemed to want at night, a massage under his giant hands, or even a shoulder to cry on whenever your ankles swelled or back ached, Halsin was there to provide for you.

Your lovemaking never ceased while pregnant, either - in fact, your sex life with Halsin seemed to do nothing but increase. Often times, you caught Halsin staring at you while you absentmindedly cleaned up after dinner, or played with the children during the afternoon - his eyes falling to your growing belly. At night, while you sat on top of him, legs wrapped around his hips as he thrusted into you, he sucked and nibbled on your swollen breasts, his hands gently caressing your belly and large behind.

"How beautiful you are," He would breathe into your ear, your bodies slick with sweat, "Creating this beautiful life inside of you. You are ethereal...I am in awe. I am not worthy of your beauty." He'd cup your cheek and suck on your bottom lip as you quietly cried his name, tears overflowing from your eyes from both pleasure and love.

When Halsin was feeling more territorial, taking you from behind, but still being more gentle than usual, he would lay his chest flat on your back so he could be as deep as his cock would allow. "Knowing that everyone can look at you and see that I did this," He would grunt, his thrusts strong and pleading, "Knowing I filled you with my seed. That I love you so often and so well that the future is growing inside of you. I need it. I crave it," His would say through gritted teeth, "Everyone knows you're mine. And I am yours. Forever."

Once Loradove was born, your sexual appetite had basically ceased. Nights that were once full of screaming and thrusting and panting were now full of changing diapers, aiding cries, and soft lullabies. Halsin, of course, was the most doting father - taking Lora without asking so you could rest, playing with her so you could do some chores, or even doing the chores himself. He was the perfect father - you knew his urges to have you were increasing tenfold as every month passed that you didn't make love. But you also knew he would never complain...thinking only of his sexual urges made him feel selfish, you knew, and he would never want to act selfishly towards you.

It had been five months since Halsin last touched you in that way. Truth be told, it wasn't just that you were too busy with the village and children and your own daughter to have sex. You also couldn't bare to look in the mirror at your newfound "mother" body. A body that, once, when fighting goblins and monsters alongside Halsin and saving Faerun, was taut with muscles and curves. Now, your belly was soft and expanded, the defined muscles you once had nowhere to be found. Stretch marks decorated you stomach and thighs, and you needed a completely new wardrobe. You dreamed of being the type of mother you had known throughout your years - weeks after giving birth somehow going back to what they once were - small and desirable.

You only felt ugly. Looking at Halsin's body, rock solid and sexy, there was absolutely no way - in your mind - he could have found your softness alluring, especially when he had met the smaller, more attractive version of you. The idea of being fully naked in front of him used to send shivers down your spin and make your heart race, but now, it was enough to make you cry.

A child's playful laugh snapped you out of your day dream, your hand limply holding on to a bundle of mugwort that you had pulled a few minutes prior. Shaking your head, you placed it in the basket near your feet, watching Halsin appear into the village around the bend. A few children had run over to him, immediately hanging on his large limbs like he was a tree branch. He smiled and lifted them in the air, sending them flying before he caught them, gently kissing their temples and placing them on the ground.

As his usual way, he scanned the village, his eyes softening when they found you. You stopped weeding and stood, your smile matching his. A few moments later he was by your side, the children trailing behind him. He bent his head to give you a soft kiss - one that still gave you butterflies.

"My heart," He spoke gently, his hand immediately finding your waist. You winced inwardly as he gripped the soft rolls of your side. He slowly pushed back the cloth wrapping that hid Lora's face, and when her eyes met his, she instantly cooed. The smile Halsin reserved for her appeared on his face, and he gently pulled her from the cloth, holding her close. "My little one. How beautiful you are! Were you helping your mother today?" He eyed you, his eyes glittering. You chuckled.

"Quite so. If she wasn't swaddled, I'm sure she'd be reaching for the belladonna to try and have an afternoon snack," You sighed, smiling and wiping your brow, "She's lucky she's so cute."

"Cute?" Halsin asked, his eyebrows raising, "She's magnificent. Breathtaking. She is perfect...cute is nowhere near the word to describe Loradove Silverbough." Suddenly, Lora screeched, causing Halsin to furrow his brows immediately.

Laughing, you gently placed your hand on his bicep, "I think she also is tired."

He chuckled, pressing a small kiss on her cheek, "I will put her down for her nap. Go, do whatever your heart desires, my love. I will see to it that you have the afternoon for yourself. Daddy's got it from here." He winked, causing you to blush.

How the word "daddy" had changed in your lexicon in 9 months.

A few minutes later, you found yourself at the nearby creek on the outskirts of the village, your sweater off and laid beside you in the afternoon heat. Your feet dangled in the cool water, the laughter of the children still around you as you dozed in and out of a nap in the sunlight. Moments like this one were not rare - with Halsin, it truly was a partnership, splitting responsibilities 50/50.

When you opened your eyes again, the sun was setting, a sure sign of heading home. It was almost dinner time, you knew, which meant that you had spent at least a few hours dozing off by the creek. Your feet, wrinkled from being submerged for so long, felt chilly as you took them out of the water. Holding your shoes in your hands, you made the short walk home, passing by the children being herded inside by the adults.

As you opened the front door to your cottage, a whiff of food hit your nostrils, sending your stomach growling - some sort of roast was being prepared, with the sounds of banging pots and giggling coming from the kitchen.

"My heart!" Halsin cried, "Is that you?"

"Yes, I'm home, Halsin." You shouted back, dropping your shoes by the door.

"Lora! Mama's home!" You heard Halsin proclaim, to which Lora responded with a delightful squeal. You smiled, wiping the immediate happy tears from your eyes.

Lucky, lucky, lucky.

As you rounded your way to the kitchen, you found Halsin plating up dinner, Lora in her little feeding chair, bits of mushed food all over her face. She immediately reached for you when she saw you, so you scooped her up, grabbing a towel from a nearby table and wiping her face gently.

"My precious angel, you eat like such a little whirlwind." You murmured, kissing her eyelashes. She cooed and grabbed at your hair as felt Halsin's hand on your shoulder. Turning towards him, he smiled and leaned down to kiss your cheek, then slowly moved to your earlobe.

"My love," He breathed, his voice low. A shiver went down your spine as you leaned into his body. Your eyelids fluttered shut, the familiar feeling of comfort warming your body. He sighed contently and ushered you towards the chair nearest you, "Sit, my heart. Dinner is ready."

You sat, opening your eyes again and smiling. He placed the plate in front of you, and was about to take Lora from your hands but you shook your head, holding her closer.

"I missed her."

Halsin chuckled and sat across from you, "Of course. If she gets too rowdy while you try to eat, I'll put her back in her chair." He made a face at Lora, who made the same one back - their version of a secret handshake.

Idly chatting about your days, you ate dinner slowly, savoring the moments with the two of them. Soon Lora was starting to fuss, alerting the two of you to her nearing bedtime.

You bathed and dressed her, putting her down in her crib while Halsin washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Walking into your bedroom, he was discarding his clothes for the night, slipping into the bed the two of you shared. As you walked in, he smiled.

“Did she go down easy?” He asked. You nodded.

“For the most part. Some tears when she realized that it was bedtime, but she was so exhausted that she went down almost as soon as her back hit the bed.” You took a sleep dress from your closet, putting it over your day clothes. Underneath the dress, you slipped the straps of your shirt off, and then your pants; the way you had gotten changed every night since Lora was young. Halsin said nothing of the intricate dressing, but you knew he watched you every night, probably wondering why his love wouldn’t stand naked in front of him. You turned and he smiled softly, patting the bed next to him.

As you laid next to him he tucked the blankets to your collarbone, kissing your forehead. “Early night? I have quite the day ahead of me tomorrow.” You yawned and nodded, nuzzling into him.

“Yes. I, myself am also exhausted.”

Halsin blew out the lamp and wrapped one of his strong arms around you, falling asleep almost instantly. You closed your eyes as well, but sleep came harder for you - the nap you took earlier in the day apparently robbing you of sleep this evening.

After an hour of tossing and turning, Halsin’s voice spoke in the dark room. “My love…are you alright? Your stirring woke me.”

You huffed as you moved on your side, throwing your arms at your side in the blankets, “I’m sorry, Halsin. I’m having a hard time falling asleep.”

Halsin was silent for a moment, but you felt him move closer to you, as he had drifted a bit during sleep, an arm wrapping around your waist. He started to pepper kisses on your neck, his breath hot in your ear. Eventually, his hand lightly palmed at your breast, your nipple gently pinched in between his fingers.

“Well…if you can’t sleep…maybe we can make use to the extra time given to us.” He whispered in your ear, rolling your nipple in his hand. Your heart fluttered, but you felt your stomach drop. Gently pushing him away, you turned to him.

“Halsin…” You started, unsure of what to say. This wasn’t the first time Halsin had tried to have sex with you since Lora was born, but every time he had tried previously, your excuses of being tired seemed more plausible. Now that it was five months, you weren’t quite sure what to say.

The hand that palmed your breast found its way to your cheek. “Please, my heart. Talk to me. I don’t want to pry, especially after you have given me the gift of our beautiful daughter…but why won’t you let me make love to you?”

In the darkness, you felt like you could cry. How could you explain to this man - this sweet, caring man - how you felt so uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping together? How you were afraid to show him what your body had become…how you were afraid that, if he saw you, he wouldn’t think of you the same?

It wasn't as if you didn't want to have sex with him - your heart stirred often when you saw him. There were so many nights where you just wanted to reach out to him - to bury his head in between your legs, or take his member in your mouth. Often you were so pent up with sexual frustration that when Halsin left the cottage, and Lora was down for a nap, you had to pleasure yourself in order to find some sort of release.

As his thumb stroked your cheek with such care, you knew it wasn’t fair to him to leave him in the dark like that. To leave him wondering if he had done something wrong, no matter how embarrassing your reasonings seemed.

You swallowed your nerves, placing your hand on his. “My body…” You started, your voice low. You could already feel the tremble in your voice as you held back tears, uncomfortable with your admission of these feelings, “My body is not the same as it was when we first met. When we…first fell in love.”

“Of course it isn’t,” He spoke plainly, “You have given birth, given Lora the gift of life. It is as nature has intended it - change is inevitable, and your body is meant to change when you grow full as one does when pregnant, my love.”

“No, that’s - that’s not what I meant,” You sighed, trying again. “What I mean is…my body is not…as nice as it was when we met. As…beautiful. As…sexy. I’m afraid you’ll look at it and be…disappointed. Dissatisfied.” Though you couldn’t really see him, you cast your eyes down to your sleep shirt, unable to look in the direction of his eyes.

A large span of silence passed. Slowly, he lowered the hand cradling your cheek. Heat rose in your body, flushing your cheeks.

"How...could you say something like that?" Halsin eventually asked, "Your body is beautiful, no matter what it looks like. You think a little softness will deter my yearning for you?"

"It's not just 'softness', Halsin," You said, the tears spilling from your cheeks, "It's...rolls. It's stretchmarks. Dimples and expanded skin where there was none before."

Suddenly, the oil lamp on the bedside table was lit. Halsin stared down on you, his brows furrowed in sadness. He took your face in his hands, kissing away the tears that had spilled.

"Oh, my love," He sighed in between kisses, "If only you could peek inside my heart...inside my brain. So you knew that my words match how I really feel, that I am not exaggerating," Pulling away, he smiled softly and looked into your eyes, "Your body. Is beautiful. It is a beautiful work of nature - of art. Your size does not dictate how badly I want to be inside of you. Your soul does. I love your body in every way it comes...would you stop stirring for me if I had added rolls and marks? If I had dimples on my thighs, or added skin on my belly?"

You smiled at his tenderness, which you always somehow knew he would respond with. "Of course not."

"So please know that when I mean my body stirs for you, I mean it. I would never want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable, but know that I have fantasized about ravaging you ever since the cleric gave us permission to make love after Loradove's birth. If you'll have me...please let me show how much I yearn for you."

You bit your lip, looking at him. He was completely nude - as he slept every night - and was on top of you. The very sight of him was causing an ache in your core, and you pressed your thighs together. Slowly, you leaned your head forward, pressing your lips to his.

At first, it was gentle, but as you felt his body press into yours, you very quickly found yourself get carried away, your tongue pressing into his mouth. Very gladly he opened his mouth, his tongue dancing with yours. He immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, and as you felt his erection press into you, you moaned. Nervously, you reached down to the hem of your sleep dress, but desperate to feel Halsin's skin on yours (and to get it over with), you grabbed the dress and pulled it over your head, discarding it on the floor.

There.

It was over with.

The one thing you had been so anxious over - finally being naked with Halsin again - had finally happened. You had discarded your clothes in front of him, being fully naked with him for the first time since you had given birth. Holding your breath - wracked with nerves - you watched his eyes take your body in. He didn't speak for several moments as his eyes moved from your head, all the way to your feet multiple times. He moved one of his hands from behind your back, to slowly tracing lines down your body, sending shivers up your spine. Dipping his head to your body, he started to slowly kiss you, gently planting kisses on your stomach, on your thighs, paying extra attention to the stretchmarks that covered your lower half.

Finally, he looked into your eyes, and you realized they were glassy with tears. He shook his head slowly and he enveloped your lips in a kiss that was so passionate, it knocked the wind out of you. When he pulled away, he cupped your cheeks once more.

"For you to think that you are anything other than beautiful is a thought I never want you to have again," He spoke, his voice low, "I covet every mark, every dimple, every soft roll on your body. Regardless if you gave life or not...your body is a beautiful work of nature, and if I need to make love to you every night in order for you to see it, I will gladly sacrifice." He smiled lightly, kissing you again. Shivers ran up your spine as he lowered his fingers to tease your clit, his fingers weaving in between your folds. Once he felt how wet you were, he moaned into the kiss, "Silvanus help me, you're going to make me finish before I even start."

His touch sent shockwaves through your system - five months of your pent up sexual desires for Halsin were starting to unravel, causing you to careen to your orgasm faster than you ever have in your life. As Halsin rubbed circles on your aching clit, you whimpered, your arms finding their way around his neck. He held you close as he brought you to him, leaning you forward so you were mere inches from his face.

"My gorgeous, gorgeous, girl," He whispered, kissing your temple. The combination of his increasingly deep movements on your clit, and the tender whispered nothings in your ear was leaving you overstimulated.

"Halsin...I'm already close." You whined, gently biting down on his shoulder. He chuckled and growled at the bite, taking his fingers off of your clit and inserting two of them inside your cunt.

"Already? My heart...I'm afraid I will be sending you over the edge many times tonight if that's how long you are going to last." As he pumped into your pussy, you threw your head back, pressing your back into the bed. Quickly, he slid down your body, gently kissing you along the way. He never stopped pumping his fingers, but as soon as his head reached your core, he pressed your legs open with his nose to suck on your clit, taking it in his mouth in its entirety. He moaned loudly, his tongue lapping over your entire pussy, the wet sounds emanating from the two you absolutely sinful.

Arching your back, your vision started to fuzz as you squeezed your eyes shut. As you looked down at Halsin, he seemed absolutely enthralled by you, his face reminiscent of the eating a delicious meal. His fingers curled upwards as he continued to switch between sucking on your clit, to lapping at your folds with his large, flat tongue.

"Gods, I'm going to come!" You whined, gripping his hair as he sucked. He didn't deviate from his movements, completely focused on making you feel his ecstasy. As you bucked your hips into his face, your orgasm crashed around you, Halsin inserting one more finger to pump into you to send you over the edge.

You screamed his name, so loudly you felt like you were going to blackout. Halsin continued on for several moments before he pulled away slowly, taking in the sight of you writhing underneath him. His chest was heaving as he gripped your thighs, his eyes dancing as he took you in. When you finally calmed down enough, you opened your eyes, looking into his.

Immediately, you burst into tears.

"I was so scared to do that." You confessed, your tears spilling over. You laughed, embarrassed, as Halsin leaned forward to kiss you.

"Never," He said, his tongue sliding on your lower lip, "Never be scared with me. Never again."

Resting your hands on his solid chest, you felt your desire focus, watching Halsin stroke his cock above you. You moaned at the sight of him - large, and beautiful, and fucking perfect.

You would never go this long without him again.

"Halsin, if I don't have you inside of me soon, I think I'm going to go crazy." You said, reaching down to help him with his strokes. His mouth fell open and he lolled his head back, murmuring your name. He took your hand from his erect penis to his mouth, kissing it gently before he lined himself up with you.

"Anything you desire, my heart." He said, before taking your hands and pinning them above your head. He held your wrists with one hand as he slowly slid inside of you, never breaking eye contact. The further he slid in, the more you two moaned, brows furrowed. Once he bottomed out, he growled. "Hells - I do not think I'll be lasting too long, either."

You laughed and he chuckled, winking at you before he began to thrust. Slow and deliberate, he grunted with his movements, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

You couldn't help but moan - there was no trying to stay quiet anymore. The past few months of not having Halsin had made you so pent up, that any touch from him seemed to cause your core to stir.

Picking up his pace, the headboard creaked. Halsin palmed at one of your tits, dipping his head to suck on your nipple. You arched your back so he could take you deeper in his mouth, and soon, he started to suck on the skin around your nipple. Heat rushed to your head as waves of pleasure continued to spread throughout your body.

As the two of you fucked, you were sloppy, messy. Noise and juices and movements shared between the two of you with no regard, with no holding back. Both of you were desperate for each other's touch, your whole body felt like it was on fire.

Eventually, as Halsin thrusted into you, he spread your legs with his other hand, abandoning your wrists above your head. After he spread your legs, he pressed one of his large fingers to your clit, circling it slowly.

"You, are so beautiful," He spoke, every word accentuated with a thrust, "The most beautiful creature nature has ever created. The most beautiful creature I have ever seen."

"Gods, Halsin - you make me feel so good. You fuck me so good." Your whimpers were bordering on incoherent as he fucked you, but it didn't matter. You were safe - you were fucking the love of your life, and Hells did it feel good.

"That's it," He spoke, moving your legs so you were on your side. He stopped thrusting for a moment to adjust you, closing your legs on his cock so he could thrust deeper, "That's it, my beautiful goddess," He be began to thrust again, and palmed at your tits, "I love this body. You are so beautiful. I love you."

"I love you too," You moaned, your back arching, gripping the sheets underneath you, "Daddy, I love you."

Halsin's eyes were set ablaze at your words. Your use of Daddy before Lora was around during sex, but you had a feeling that it took on a whole new meaning while you fucked him. He smiled, wiping the sweat from his brow. You could tell by his thrusts that he was nearing his edge, which was soon for Halsin.

It seemed the five months had the same affect on him, too.

"Daddy's fucking you good?" He groaned, grabbing a fistful of your ass. He squeezed hard before winding his hand back, giving you a tight slap on one of your cheeks, "You like it when Daddy fucks you like this?"

"Yes!" You screamed, grabbing hold of his forearm, "Gods, you make me feel so good!"

His grip on your ass tightened as he started to switch between his thrusts - slow and measured, and rough, pounding into you so hard his cock coming in contact with your cunt made a loud SMACK noise with every movement. Your walls clenched around him as he roughly gripped your hips, his hair becoming wet with sweat. Every time you clenched around his cock he growled, a noise that reminded you of an animal - feral, full of wanting.

"You're going to make me come," He said, his chest heaving. The sound of his cock and balls slapping against your wet core filled the room at an increased pace, and he didn't stop. "I'm going to fill you, my heart."

"Fill me," You commanded, looking into his eyes. Halsin groaned and leaned forward, his forehead touching yours. With three more thrusts, he growled and released, filling you with his orgasm. A silent scream came from his lips, followed by him murmuring your name over and over again. He bucked his hips a few more times to drain himself in you before he slowly slid out, immediately cradling you in his arms.

Both of you were panting, sweating, but you didn't care. You were holding on to each other for dear life, thankful for how the night turned out.

Halsin kissed every inch of you from your chest up, cupping your face with the utmost care. Pulling away, he looked at you.

"You put the stars in the sky, my heart," He spoke, gently kissing you. "The moon...the sun...they pale in comparison to your beauty," Gently running his hands over your body, he titled his head, "How do you feel?"

Still catching your breath, you smiled at him, "Incredible. Beautiful." You answered, honestly.

Halsin's face lit up and he pressed a kiss to you again. His tongue found its way into your mouth, and soon, his body was pressing against yours again, his pent up desire found his movements.

"If you give me just a bit of time, I would love to make you feel beautiful again." He spoke, sending shivers up your spine. Brushing a piece of hair out of your face, you were about to reply.

Suddenly, Lora cried from her room. Both of you stopped in your tracks, and when you realized she wasn't going to stop, you bot started to laugh. You went to get up from bed, but Halsin gently pushed you down, springing up himself.

"Rest, my love. I have her," He started to walk out of the room, but turned back quickly, "When I come back into this room, you better not have put your clothes back on."

You giggled and titled your head, feeling seductive for the first time in Gods knows how long, "Mr. Halsin, if you don't watch yourself, you're going to have put yet another baby in me."

Halsin's eyes darkened, and you knew you hit his desires on the head. His cock twitched and he coughed, trying to control himself. "Who says that's not the plan?" He asked, before slipping into Lora's room.

You laid back down on the bed, your breathing returning to normal. From the other room, you heard Halsin speaking softly to your daughter, singing her a lullaby to get her to go back to sleep. Pulling the covers over your body, you relished in the feeling of the blankets on your naked skin. Sighing happily, you moved your legs around in the bed, the sensation spreading warmth throughout your body.

How lucky you were.

---

If you liked this one, don't forget to leave a comment - it’s so so appreciated ❤️ Thank you all for reading!

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #halsin x reader #bg3 halsin #halsin #halsin headcanons #halsin au #halsin smut #halsin x you #halsin x tav #halsin fluff #dad halsin #halsin fan fic #halsin fan fiction #halsin fanfic

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hoshifighting · 4 months

Text

Whispers of Wealth

Synopsis: Soonyoung, a vivacious friend from a prestigious dance studio, introduces Seungcheol, a wealthy businessman, to Y/N. Seungcheol, engulfed in the loneliness of the corporate world, finds solace in Y/N's presence. Their chance meeting transforms into a dance of wealth, passion, and unexplored desires, weaving an intricate tale of companionship in a world painted with luxurious hues.

Word count: 3.6k

Reader! Dancer/Sugar baby?, Seungcheol! Businessman/Sugar daddy?

Warnings: smut, oral (m. receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, soft dom cheol, big dick cheol, loud moaning, aftercare <3

Once upon a time in the bustling city, a chance encounter changed your life in unexpected ways. It all began when Soonyoung, a lively and vibrant friend from the dance studio, introduced you to the charismatic Seungcheol. The dimly lit dance floor had been the first stage of this unfolding story.

Seungcheol, a successful businessman caught in the web of the corporate world, found solace in the rhythm of the music and the enchanting presence you brought to the club. Your initial conversations were light-hearted, filled with laughter and shared interests that extended beyond the dance floor. It didn't take long for Seungcheol to extend an invitation for a more formal meeting.

The night arrived when you found yourself seated across from Seungcheol in a posh and sophisticated restaurant. As the evening unfolded, Seungcheol shared his history with you. He spoke of the isolating nature of his high-profile corporate life, where success had come at the cost of genuine connections. Lonely in the midst of crowds, he confessed his desire for a companion, someone to share moments with.

One day, as you and Soonyoung enjoyed a quiet afternoon coffee, the conversation took a more serious turn. Soonyoung, with a look of concern in his eyes, began to share more about Seungcheol's life and the impact your friendship had on him.

"Soonyoung," you asked, sipping your coffee, "what's really going on with Seungcheol? I've noticed he seems really lonely, despite all the success and luxury surrounding him."

Soonyoung sighed, his gaze fixed on his cup. "Seungcheol's always been a bit of a lone wolf, you know? And with the corporate world, it's only gotten worse. He's got all this wealth, but it's like he's drowning in it. He told me once that you're one of the few friends he's got."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Seungcheol. He in a short period of time, declared you as his friend, while you was just doing the simplest thing a friend should do. It explained why he sought companionship, even in unconventional ways. "I had no idea he felt that way. I mean, he's got everything anyone could dream of, right?"

Soonyoung nodded, "Yeah, but he's missing something money can't buy. Genuine connection, real friendship. I think that's where you come in."

Determined to make a positive impact in Seungcheol's life, you decided to take a more proactive role. Over the following weeks, you started checking in on him, asking about his day, and genuinely caring about his well-being. You became a reliable listener, offering a comforting presence whenever he needed it. The simplicity of your actions seemed to make a world of difference to Seungcheol.

As your friendship deepened, you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. There were moments of laughter, shared interests, and even quiet companionship. You felt a sense of fulfillment in being the friend he needed.

Despite your insistence that you didn't need anything in return, Seungcheol, grateful for the genuine connection you provided, began showering you with gifts. From covering your study fees to surprising you with thoughtful presents, he seemed eager to express his gratitude.

One day, after he handed you a particularly extravagant gift, you couldn't help but express your concerns. "Seungcheol, you really don't have to do this. Our friendship is enough for me."

He smiled warmly, "I know, but you've brought so much joy into my life. Consider it a token of appreciation. Besides, what's the point of having all this if I can't share it with someone who genuinely cares?"

On that unexpected morning, you awoke to find the house unusually quiet, realizing that Seungcheol had already left. As you made your way to the dining table, your eyes widened at the sight of a sleek black card resting there, accompanied by a note written in Seungcheol's elegant handwriting.

"Hey Y/N,

Hope you're doing great! So, there's this event tonight, and I'd love for you to be there with me. Check out the black card on the table—it's all yours to pick up whatever makes you feel amazing. Dress, shoes, the whole deal. Go wild!

Can't wait to see you at 7 pm. Your company is what's gonna make the night awesome.

Cheers,

Seungcheol"

As the CEO delivered a captivating speech, you found yourself seated at a round table with Seungcheol, surrounded by his investors and their respective wives. The conversation flowed effortlessly between you and Seungcheol, a seamless blend of lighthearted banter and genuine connection.

The wives, engaged in their own animated discussions about their luxurious lifestyles, couldn't help but glance in your direction. One of them, with a knowing smile, leaned in and commented, "You two must be the youngest couple here, for sure. You look absolutely adorable together."

You and Seungcheol exchanged glances, cheeks flushing slightly. Grateful for the compliment, you both responded with a simultaneous, "Thank you!"

The wives, seemingly satisfied with their assumption, continued chatting amongst themselves. Despite the unspoken truth that you and Seungcheol were just friends, you decided to let the charming moment linger without providing any clarifications.

[…]

The dance studio buzzed with excitement as Seungcheol, clad in his crisp white shirt and tailored pants, entered the room. The dance teacher, familiar with your frequent visits, greeted him, "Oh, you must be looking for Y/N. Let me take you to her."

As they approached the practice room, the teacher swung open the door, exclaiming, "Y/N, Seungcheol is here!" You turned around, expecting to see a familiar face, but your eyes widened when you saw Seungcheol standing there, looking like he had just stepped out of a corporate meeting.

Before you could react, the dance teacher surveyed the room, taking in the romantic atmosphere created for a Valentine's Day presentation. Couples were scattered around, preparing for their routines, and a large "Valentine's Day" sign adorned the wall.

The teacher turned to Seungcheol with a surprised expression, "Y/N, is this your boyfriend? Come in, Seungcheol! We were just about to start our Valentine's Day presentation."

You stammered, attempting to clarify the situation, but the dance teacher, seemingly delighted, ushered Seungcheol to a chair, and you found yourself in an awkward position. There was no escape, and you had no choice but to take a deep breath and join the presentation. As you assumed your dancing position, you couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

The slow, sultry notes of the song began to fill the dance studio, and you took a deep breath, trying to shake off any lingering shyness. As the rhythm took over, your hips began to sway, your hands gracefully running through the movements with a captivating allure.

With each sensual step, you held Seungcheol's gaze firmly. At first, he wore a charming smile, enjoying the beauty of your dance. However, as the atmosphere became more intense, his expression shifted, darkening with a mix of surprise and desire. His eyes locked onto yours, and he instinctively licked his lips, realizing the nature of the dance you were about to unveil.

You moved closer, your seductive aura enveloping the space around you. The room seemed to shrink as you danced, the chemistry between you and Seungcheol palpable. Sensing the shift, Seungcheol's hands gripped tightly onto the chair's seat, a visible effort to keep himself grounded and resist the temptation to touch you.

As the slow, sensual dance continued, you took a bold step, sitting on Seungcheol's lap, allowing the rhythm of the song to guide your movements. Seungcheol's grip on the chair tightened further, his knuckles turning white as he fought against the urge to lose himself in the moment. Your body moved gracefully, rubbing against him with an enticing allure, and Seungcheol, though visibly affected, managed to maintain restraint, trying to control the noticing bulge on his pants.

To your surprise, glances around the room revealed that other couples were engaged in similarly provocative dances, creating an atmosphere charged with a shared sense of desire. As the music swirled around you, and the dance reached its climax, the room was filled with an electric energy, leaving an indelible mark on this unexpected Valentine's Day presentation.

As the song came to an end, you rose from Seungcheol's lap with a teasing smile, your performance leaving an unforgettable impression on both him and the audience. The dance studio buzzed with a mixture of applause and laughter, and you couldn't help but feel a blend of exhilaration and amusement at the unexpected turn of events.

As the white lights illuminated the room, signaling the end of the performance, the dancers took a moment to converse with their partners. You glanced over at Seungcheol, attempting to decipher the meaning behind the intense gaze he now directed at you. Taking a sip from a bottle of water, you wondered what was going through his mind.

As the other dancers gradually left the room, you stayed behind to collect your belongings. Alone in the studio, you slung your bag over your shoulder, feeling a sense of responsibility for the unexpected turn of events. Taking a deep breath, you approached Seungcheol, who seemed amused by the whole situation.

"Seungcheol, I really didn't know you'd be here. I'm sorry if this caught you off guard," you admitted, sincerity lacing your voice.

He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Caught off guard is an understatement. But you know what? I can't say I'm complaining. That was quite the surprise, and you were incredible."

You smiled, relieved by his lighthearted response. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I just didn't expect you to be here, especially for that kind of performance."

Seungcheol stepped closer, the playful smile still on his face. "Well, you certainly know how to keep things interesting. How do you plan to let me off the hook for this? I can't deny it's a memory I won't forget."

As Seungcheol inched closer, the room's temperature seemed to rise, and your breath caught in the warm air. He spoke, his voice carrying a playful tone, "If my uncoordinated ass knew how to dance, I swear I would dance back to you too."

You scoffed, a playful grin spreading across your face. Turning your head to the side, you teased, "Oh, I'd pay good money to see that."

But before you could fully react, he gently pulled your chin back, locking eyes with you. "On second thought," he continued, "since I can't dance, can I repay you with something else?"

Your back pressed against the mirror, his arms trapping you against it, hands resting on the wall. The proximity between you heightened the intensity of the moment, and you couldn't resist a mischievous grin. With a twinkle in your eye, you replied provocatively, "Well, Seungcheol, I'm open to creative forms of repayment. Surprise me."

As Seungcheol's free hand encircled your waist, he pulled you closer, pressing your heated bodies together. The intensity in the air grew, and he captured your lips in a passionate kiss. In the confined space between the mirror and his strong frame, the room seemed to shrink, and the air became thinner.

A desperate moan escaped your lips as the kiss deepened, the heat between you igniting a fire that fueled the desire for more. Seungcheol, not holding back, pressed you harder against the mirror, his built body making it difficult for you to catch your breath. Gasping for air, you surrendered to the intoxicating sensation, the world outside the dance studio fading away as the two of you lost yourselves in the heat of the moment. As he felt the bare skin of your neck, he couldn't resist the temptation. His lips moved from yours, and with a slight nip, he bit your skin gently. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, a mix of pleasure and surprise, as the heat between you continued to escalate.

With a jolt, the unexpected interruption brought you both back to reality. The teacher's voice cut through the heated moment, apologizing for the intrusion but informing you that the building was closing, and the dance rooms needed to be shut. It felt as if you were two teenagers caught doing something wrong, the thrill of the moment lingering in the air.

Seungcheol, his cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and lingering desire, exchanged a quick glance with you. Both of you nodded with flushed cheeks, quickly straightening yourselves out. "Of course, sorry about that," Seungcheol managed to say, his voice slightly breathless.

You both bid a hasty farewell to the teacher, offering hurried bows as you made your way out of the dance studio. Seungcheol led the way, guiding you towards his car, the air thick with the remnants of the intense moment you'd just shared.

The journey to Seungcheol's home remained silent, but this time, it carried a different energy. It wasn't marked by embarrassment, but rather a comfortable silence that spoke volumes. Each passing moment was filled with unspoken understanding, and perhaps both of you were lost in your thoughts, contemplating the events that had transpired.

Upon arriving at his home, any lingering uncertainty dissipated. In a sudden burst of desire, Seungcheol took charge, manhandling you with a passionate kiss in the middle of the house entrance. The world outside seemed to fade away as he led you to his bedroom.

Soft bed and duvets welcomed you, and Seungcheol laid over you, his eyes searching for any signs of discomfort. He took a moment to catch his breath, and then, with a hint of vulnerability, he spoke, "Is this too much? Should we stop?"

As you met Seungcheol's gaze, his question lingered in the air. The room was filled with a charged energy, and you could sense the vulnerability beneath his desire. With a reassuring smile and a gentle nod, you conveyed your answer without uttering a single word. In that silent exchange, you both acknowledged the unspoken connection that had been brewing between you.

Seungcheol's gummy smile lit up the room as he gracefully rose from the bed, each button of his shirt undone deliberately. His eyes locked onto yours, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he removed the shirt, unveiling his strong arms and built chest. The room seemed to pulse with the shared anticipation of what was to come.

His movements were deliberate, filled with a quiet confidence as he removed the belt, and his pants gracefully fell to the floor, his cock begging to leave from his black boxers. Your eyes traced every inch of his movements, focused on the enticing unveiling before you. You can feel your wetness pools on your panties.

He slides his boxers from his legs, and his cock jumps from the clothing, the red tip leaking precum, while he holds the base, making the veins more apparent. Your mouth waters at the scene in front of you, you sit, getting closer to him. “Let me suck you?” You wrap your hand around his cock slowly stroking his dick.

“Only if you ask me nicely…” He smiles biting his lower lip.

“Please? You're going to let me do this, aren't you?” You kiss the head of his cock, and he nods losing posture. “You’re going to let me shove your cock way down my throat, aren’t you?”

He rolls his eyes, at the feeling of you giving kitten-licks on his tip “Fuck. Yes baby, y-you can do this…”

You take him into your mouth, sinking as much as possible, his tip pressed on your throat, coming back at the tip, and sinking his cock on your throat again. Seungcheol grunts, holding your hair, so he can fuck into your mouth. With each bob of your head you can take more from his thick cock. Stopping him, you begin to swirl your tongue around his head, the knot on his stomach tightening.

“No, no, no! Stop!” Seungcheol breathes, pulling you by your hair.

You look at him, twisting your head, licking his tip again, making him hiss. He pins you down on the bed, stopping you. “I’ve told you to fuckin’ stop!” He said though his teeth. “Strip.”

Feeling the urgency in the air, you quickly left the bed, a rush of excitement propelling you to shed your tight clothing. Seungcheol sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on you, his anticipation evident in his gaze.

As you became completely free from your clothing, Seungcheol's voice, filled with desire, broke the silence, "I want you to ride me like the dance you did earlier, right now."

His request hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation. The room seemed to pulse with a newfound energy as you considered the proposition, the memory of the dance from earlier still lingering in the air.

You gracefully moved towards Seungcheol, placing your legs over his sides as you straddled him on the edge of the bed. Sliding his big dick inside of you, almost splitting you in a half, you throw your head back, the pain mixing with pleasure. He caress your hair, waiting for you to take your time.

With the memory of the earlier dance echoing in your mind, you began to move your hips in a rhythmic and enticing manner, just like you did in the dance studio. The soft melodies of desire played in your head, guiding your every motion.

As you rolled your hips, the intimate connection between you and Seungcheol deepened. He couldn't contain the visceral response to the tantalizing dance before him. A low, involuntary moan escaped his lips, a testament to the intensity of desire that pulsed through the room. The sound hung in the air, blending with the rhythm of the dance, creating a symphony of shared passion between you and Seungcheol. “Ah, like this baby, you’re doing so good!”

“Seungcheol, it’s- ah! So good, so good…” You roll your hips fast, his hand helping you to continue.

“I know baby, I know… Riding that dick like a pro.” Seungcheol's eyes remained fixated on your movements. “Look at your pretty little cunt, taking me all in.” He moves one hand to circle your clit, making you clench hard around him, making he take a sharp breath.

Seungcheol, overwhelmed by the intoxicating allure of your riding, cursed under his breath. Each subtle movement you made seemed to bring him closer to the edge. With a determined resolve to savor the moment and prolong the pleasure, he abruptly stopped you.

In a swift motion, he flipped you over, the duvets threatening to cascade onto the floor. With your face laid on the mattress, the room filled with a charged intensity as Seungcheol took control, holding your hands at your back. He moans loudly when he gets deep on you again, and your pussy spasms around him, orgasm ripping through your body, just from him slamming his dick inside of you, making you groan from the back of your throat.

Seungcheol, with a sly grin playing on his lips, teased you with a hint of playful arrogance. "Already?" he remarked, his voice a playful taunt. "I didn't even start yet, and you’re already creaming around my cock.” He admires the white ring on the base of his dick.

As you hid your face on the mattress, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks, Seungcheol, holding your hands at your back, playfully pulled you towards him, pounding into you merciless. His voice, low and filled with a teasing authority, broke the silence.

"You'll take me like the good girl that you are, right?" Seungcheol, not hearing your response, raised an eyebrow in amusement. His playful demeanor persisted as he remarked, "Well, the silence says it all, doesn't it?" He laughs, seeing your face contorted in pleasure.

“P-please Seungcheol…”

“Please what? Hm?”

“Cum inside of me, I need you to cum for me please!” You cry out, feeling the oversensitivity a lil’ too much.

Your voice drips with honey, making his hips stutter, with a loud moaning of your name, loads of cum shoots down your pussy, filling you up. Making the bed, a mess from both of you.

The aftercare was a serene and comforting experience. After sharing a bath together, you found yourselves nestled on the fresh and clean bed, the exhaustion of the night settling in. However, the need for sustenance after the dance-filled evening lingered. Seungcheol entered the room carrying a tray of food, his gaze softening as he noticed your tired expression. He set the tray down on the bedside table and sat beside you, a gentle touch in his actions.

"Are you too tired because of me?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded with a small, sleepy smile, affirming his observation. Seungcheol's face reflected a mix of understanding and a touch of guilt. "I'll take it easier next time, okay?" he promised.

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head in a desperate, silent plea. The exhaustion in your eyes was met with a caring gaze from Seungcheol. "No? You sure?" he asked, seeking reassurance.

You mustered the energy to shake your head again, a smile playing on your lips. It was a subtle but clear indication that his intensity was not a burden, but rather a shared pleasure. The unspoken understanding between you two continued to guide the conversation, deepening the connection forged through the night's intimate experiences.

Seungcheol's eyes softened, and he chuckled, "Alright, no holding back next time then." The lighthearted banter mixed with genuine care filled the room, as you both enjoyed the late-night meal, surrounded by the warmth of the afterglow and the quiet understanding that had blossomed between you.

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