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zorosdimples · 5 months

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AFLOAT

pairing ༄ zoro x gn!reader

warnings ༄ this fic is slightly suggestive, but it’s more fluffy than anything else. reader has an unspecified devil fruit power, and thus cannot swim. reader wears a bra and underwear, and is implied to be shorter than zoro, but no gendered terms are used.

word count ༄ 1365

notes ༄ my birthday fic for zoro! this has been in my drafts since july. it’s disgustingly self-indulgent and filled with emotion; i hope you all enjoy regardless <3 tagging my beloved wife @redskyvenus!

sitting on the edge of a rickety, weather-worn dock, you dip your legs in crystalline water and try to keep your focus on the depths: on the flora that roots at the bottom and reaches to the sun, on the schools of tiny fish that flit around the underwater jungle.

but your gaze keeps drifting to the man swimming laps around the spring, admiring how gracefully his strong body cuts through the water. the midafternoon sun hotly caresses your skin and presses into you like a greedy lover. you lean back on your palms and tilt your head up to soak in the barefaced sky; its cerulean is only obscured by the dense foliage that surrounds the secluded watering hole.

you’re startled from your thoughts when you feel something tickle your toes. with a strangled yelp you scramble back from the edge of the dock. as you steady your breathing and wonder what the hell just touched you, a familiar mint green head bobs up to the surface.

“asshole!” you shout, slamming your hands down on the wooden planks for emphasis.

zoro laughs heartily as he hoists himself out of the water and plops down next to you. he ruffles his hair, sending sparkling droplets flying in the sunlight, landing on your sweat-damp flesh. your eyes flicker to the rivulets that ebb and flow down his naked torso into a little pool beneath him.

remembering your irritation, you half-heartedly punch his tricep and scold him. “you scared me so badly i could’ve fallen into the spring and drowned. and then you have the audacity to laugh at me?”

zoro snorts at your dramatics, but glosses over them, nudging you with his elbow. “i’d never let you drown and y’know it.”

he’s right, of course. zoro is certainly strong enough to haul you out of the water. you’ve watched him save countless people—friend and foe alike—from a premature grave. you put your feet back in the spring, playfully kicking the swordsman’s leg in the process. the chilled water cools your body but isn’t enough to stop the perspiration that beads at your hairline.

“i miss swimming,” you state, thinking aloud more than speaking to the man beside you. you can’t see the way his lone eye maps your profile as though he will forget the cant of your nose and the curve of your lip once this moment passes.

silence hangs comfortably for several breaths before zoro turns to you with a sly—or is it sinister?—smile. “let me take you swimming.”

you blink at him a few times, face scrunching into the signature scowl he secretly adores.

“did you hit your head on a rock or something? i’m a devil fruit user. it’s physically impossible for me to stay afloat in water, let alone swim in it.”

his grey eye shines with mirth. “just listen for a sec, will ya? no need for insults,” he chuckles as he rises to his feet and offers you a hand.

you appraise him with a quirked brow. you will yourself to push away thoughts of how beautiful he looks bathed in sunbeams and how you wish you could chart the planes of his body the same way you are charting the grand line. how you would see and count and kiss every scar etched in his flesh and tell him how happy you are that he’s alive.

zoro keeps his expectant stance, and you focus on his outstretched hand, just as sinewy and scarred as the rest of his body.

“d’you trust me?” he inquires. his eye searches yours for truth.

“more than i trust myself,” you answer without thinking. the admission is perhaps too honest, but you catch his dimpled smile and feel a little lightheaded as you grasp his rough palm and stand up beside him.

zoro leads you off the dock and around the rocky curves and edges of the spring to an ideal point of entry. you reach a stretch that resembles a beach: a sandy shore that slopes into the water. he starts walking into the spring expecting you to follow, but when you hesitate, he pauses and spins to face you.

“somethin’ the matter?” he asks.

you wordlessly glance down at your jean shorts and white top. “ah,” he says with a curt nod. “you should just wear your swimsuit. don’t wanna get all bogged down with wet clothes.”

you absentmindedly fiddle with the edge of your shirt and clear your throat. “i don’t have a swimsuit, zoro.”

“huh? nami’s always got one on. you’re tellin’ me you don’t?”

you rub your temples. “oh my god, zoro. nami can swim—i can’t. why would i ever wear a swimsuit when i have no intention of swimming?”

after a few tense beats, he tries again. “so—”

you interrupt him with a huff. “just turn around and wait a second. please?”

he obeys without question and you sigh. before you second guess yourself, you undress, leaving your shirt and shorts in a tidy pile on the sand. you’re left in your bra and underwear. they’re nothing special: just a matching cotton set that has seen better days. they are well-worn and comfortable—perfect for the sticky summer heat. you muster all your courage and start walking toward the shoreline.

it’s not a big deal.

it’s just like a swimsuit.

he won’t care.

it’s not as though he likes me.

zoro can hear your tentative steps, faint splashes in the water behind him. he doesn’t turn to you since you never told him he could. once you reach his side, he angles his head so he can look you directly in the eyes, saying, “we’re gonna walk until the water is up to your shoulders. is that okay?” if you saw a rosy flush on his cheeks, you could have easily mistaken it for the heat or too much sun.

“yeah,” you breathe.

the two of you walk in silence. you feel fine until the water hits your waist, then reality sets in. you haven’t been in a body of water since you were a young child. icy panic surges through your veins when you feel a fish graze one of your legs; you instinctively grab zoro’s tanned forearm to steady yourself.

“easy there, s’okay,” he soothes, stopping so you can get your bearings. when you don’t let go of him, he adds a simple “c’mere,” securing a strong arm around your waist. the water is cold, but his touch burns you.

it’s a strange sensation, delving deeper in the clear water, the surface lapping at your shoulders. it’s both nostalgic and new, familiar and foreign, frightening and exciting—even more so with the man holding you.

“see? you’re a pro,” zoro teases, calloused fingers gentle as he squeezes your waist.

usually, you would bite back, but you’re transfixed by the feeling. you attempt to turn and face zoro, but stumble in the process, unused to how clunky your legs feel underwater. he wraps both his arms around your waist, anchoring you to him.

it dawns on you how close you two are: your bodies pressed together, a thin layer of sodden fabric separating your flesh from his. the swordsman hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart is beating. (you would if you weren’t so focused on your own heartbeat.)

you peer up at zoro, hands splayed on his firm pecs, and for the first time, you see unguarded longing in his steel gaze. it’s awkward, the way neither of you can bring yourselves to speak. but leaning into one another feels right.

uncharacteristically, zoro breaks the quiet. his voice is rich—husky—as he asks, “you okay?”

boldly, you link your hands around his sun-warmed neck, thrilled when he doesn’t pull away, but instead sinks into your touch. you stand on your tiptoes, inching closer to him. zoro’s head hangs low, chapped lips parted, breath heavy. he’s so close that you can see him and smell him and hear him and feel him, but you want to taste him, too.

“let’s just stay like this,” you murmur.

and in the middle of the chilly spring, two burning souls stay afloat, zoro’s lips moving, melting, blurring against your own.

#header is a detail from hokusai's woodblock print ‘whirlpools at awa’#dividers are my own!#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece x reader #zoro <3 #༄ kae writes

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blues824 · 11 months

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Octavinelle x Siren!Reader

Gender-neutral reader.

Azul Ashengrotto

Alright, so when he saw Jack Howl carrying you with a tail inside the Lounge, he let out a gasp of shock. He led the First Year to a moonpool that was within Octavinelle. You let out a gasp of bliss as you felt your scales being rehydrated by the water within the pool, a feeling that Azul knows all too well.

The cecaelia knows that sirens tend to lure in their prey by their voice, so he tries to leave as fast as he can. However, you started speaking to him almost immediately, inviting him to swim with you and that you would be so lonely and cold without his arms wrapped around you. The poor man was so red in the face and his heart was pounding against his ribcage.

You were promising kisses and a future together, which was all he wanted. He closed his eyes and saw the two of you living under the sea, a ring on your finger. It almost made him melt, but he knew that he could not give in. He pushed up his glasses and continued making his way back to the Lounge. However, the vision would not leave his mind.

Throughout the entire week, your singing voice had been ringing through his brain. His heart fluttered whenever he thought about answering your calls for him. On the 7th day, the calls became too much and he went to the moonpool where you currently resided. You were waiting for him.

Your calls continued, and Azul entered the water. His merform was the first thing you noticed, and you called it absolutely beautiful. Needless to say, he was lost in the sea that was your voice, and his tentacles wrapped themselves around your torso as he was further lost in the kiss you had given him.

Luckily for the two of you, this happened at 12:01 am, and thus Azul was safe from being trapped in your spell. However, you emerged from the water with suction cup marks all over your midsection. The poor octopus merman was so embarrassed, but you placed another kiss on his lips and reassured him that it was perfectly alright.

Jade Leech

He took you from Jack’s arms, feeling quite possessive all of a sudden after seeing you in a tail in the wolf man’s arms. He could feel your scales drying out, so he made quick work of his feet and dumped you in one of the many moonpools within the Octavinelle dormitory.

As he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm before pleading with him not to leave. He smirked before teasing you and saying that you were not very smart if you thought that your siren speech would get to him. Well, spoiler alert: it did and now his heart is beating harder than a Looney Tunes character.

Azul had to make sure that he was alright before he let the tweel get back to work again. He proved sufficient enough, so he continued for the entirety of the week. But, the cecaelia could clearly see that Jade was gritting his teeth whenever he was speaking with a customer. This continued for the entirety of the week until he was given the weekend off to try and get out of your spell.

On the 7th day, the temptation became too much for Jade. Your singing has been running circles in his brain. So, he quietly exited his room and started making his way to you. He noticed that the moon seemed to be lighting the path so he can make his way to his beloved, and he took it as a green flag rather than a red one.

When he got to the moonpool, he immediately went into the water and started shifting into his mer-form. Almost immediately, he heard a whoosh in the water and knew that it was you. You swam up and wrapped your arms around his neck as you greeted him. It didn’t take long for the loving look in your eyes to both figuratively and literally drag him underwater as you gave him a kiss.

Fortunately, it was past midnight. The next day, Jade was only a tad upset that you no longer had your tail since that meant you wouldn’t be able to go swimming with each other the way that two mer-people would. However, he was glad that he was no longer under your spell. It would have been disastrous otherwise.

Floyd Leech

The second he saw you in Jack’s arms with a tail rather than two legs, his boring and dull day suddenly got much more interesting. This man was not paying attention to any warnings as he took you into his arms and carried you to the moonpools so your scales wouldn’t dry out. On the way there, he was stuck under your siren song.

As a result of this, he very much wanted to join you while you were swimming. He almost did, but Jade was there to drag his brother off and lock him in his dorm room. Floyd was struggling against his brother’s arms and yelling to let him go. Any struggle was in vain, as he was still stuck in his own room. The door was locked from the outside.

Azul and Jade tried to explain that the influence your siren song had over him was dangerous, but Floyd was not listening. His heart was screaming at him to go see you, to kiss you. He just needed to be with you. For the entirety of the week, he would wrestle his boss or his brother in order to escape and get to you, but each time it has failed.

Now, in a haste to get the tweel locked away, they had forgotten about the window that was in Floyd’s room. To be fair, he had also forgotten about it until he realized that he had bedsheets and could climb down quickly because of a rope climbing exercise in Coach Vargas’ PE class. So, he did it and was now technically a fugitive.

This mofo ran as fast as he could to where you were swimming. His little shrimpy was just so cute with a tail! He joined you in the water and immediately wrapped his long tail around yours. You returned the tight embrace he had given you by placing the kiss he had been longing for upon his lips.

The next day, you were thanking the stars above that Floyd was just his usual level of clingy rather than stuck under the spell. He mourned the loss of your tail like it was its own separate person. Real tears were shed. You had to comfort him and say that you would go swimming with him soon to make him feel better. It worked, and he was back to his giddy self.

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miraclewoozi · 1 month

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FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE. -l.c

pair : dino x fem!reader. prompt : “say you want me, and i’m yours.” SMUT. MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT. wc : 5k. heads up / smut tags : ex-boyfriend!chan. everyone’s down horrendous. drinking/some alcohol consumption prior to the fucking (they aren’t drunk tho). chan is able to lift reader and carry her a short distance. oral (f rec). backshots. unprotected p-in-v sex. reader has solid arch game. chan calls reader good girl/pretty girl/ baby. it’s all very needy. notes : i had idubilu chan on the brain for a big portion of writing. this was supposed to be a drabble and then ended up longer than some of my actual fics, so. bon appetite i guess?

There’s a list of places you think you’d be okay to run into one of your exes.

In the grocery store, for starters. At the gym. In a bar, at your favourite pizza place, the library… None of them would exactly be fun, but one way or another, you believe that they would all be quite manageable.

Further down are family events. While on a date with someone else. At the beach, or a swimming pool. A doctors office. Considerably more uncomfortable. Would probably warrant a large glass of wine as soon as you got home. You would live, though. No doubt about it.

But at a wedding? Not only is it not on there, it’s quite high up on its own index.

The Crisis List.

Yet this is the position in which you find yourself on this beautiful summer’s evening. You suppose it’s sort of what you get for letting yourself be set up with a friend of a friend while you were in college and mixing your social circles: this is some sort of twisted, universal revenge. But of all the places you’ve pictured running into Chan and succeeding to pace yourself through awkward small-talk before parting ways again… you never imagined that a celebration of eternal love would be the setting.

You recognised the sound of his voice pretty much as soon as you arrived, but you were thankfully seated on opposite sides of the aisle during the ceremony itself. It was therefore pretty easy to keep your eyes off him and instead focus on what was going on at the front of the room. This wasn’t so simple when you only knew one other person at your table during the dinner service and Chan was seated barely ten feet away, and every time you glanced over to him, he was blowing bubbles and entertaining a group of young kids. Every time he laughed, or even every time he made one of them laugh, your head would snap over on instinct. Though you locked eyes with him a few times, mostly you were able to look away again before he had the chance to catch you.

Regardless, seeing that brilliant smile from across the room full of strangers made your stomach twist, so much so that you couldn’t even finish your dessert.

Thus far, the day has passed without any real incident; dinner was three hours ago and you’ve managed to avoid him almost perfectly. You keep telling yourself that if you can just make it a little while longer, you’ll be able to go back upstairs and retire to your hotel room, and maybe even eventually, this will become another one of those memories you can laugh about with your friends.

Just a little while longer.

In the meantime, a stool at the very end of the bar is your sanctuary and it has been for so long that your ass has started to go numb. With more people in attendance at the reception than there were at the ceremony and dinner portions of the day, you’re doing a pretty fantastic job keeping your distance from Chan. His friends, too. Everyone, if you’re being completely honest: with your back to the room at large, you could forgive anyone here for assuming that you peaked early, got wasted and just no longer have the legs to move from your perch.

But the truth is that you’re still nursing the same flute of champagne you were given on your way in. Still drawing your fingertip round and around the rim of the same glass, wiping off the lipstick marks you leave with every tiny new sip. Still watching the same bubbles rise up and burst at the same surface. You’re about as sober as anyone on the planet has ever been.

At least, almost certainly, you’re the most sober adult in the building.

You know it’s not exactly fair to have removed yourself from the fun like this on the happiest day of your friends’ lives. You’re overjoyed for them, you really are, and you sort of wish you could just shake this off and go about your business, pretending he’s not here so that you could enjoy yourself properly. You’ve never claimed to be the life and soul of the party, but you know being so distant is a new look on you.

If only it was as easy as simply caring less.

But you’re surrounded by happy couples and faced with the man who is the definition of ‘right person, wrong time’. How can you possibly think about anything else?

Your spine tingles with the feeling of someone hovering behind you and you pick your glass up into your hand, ready to spin around and tell a concerned bride — for the fifth time — that you promise, you’re okay. To keep up the lie about the bellyache you’ve been pretending to have for an hour now just to get her to go back to her party. You square your shoulders and put a smile onto your face, but you don’t have the chance to turn around and put up a façade. The person — who is decidedly not who you were expecting — appears to your right instead, a solid frame in a black suit swallowing up your periphery. Your excuses fade away to static in your brain.

“Is this seat taken?” Chan asks, fingertips brushing over the leather of the chair adjacent to you. “Are you… waiting for someone?”

You shake your head, taking a deep breath. There’s no running away now. “Nope. All yours.”

He swings one leg over the stool and settles into it, both hands resting up on the bar. He, too, twitches his fingers against his glass. He, too, fails to even glance at you.

“Been a while, huh?” He says after a few seconds. Even though music continues playing behind you both, it’s nowhere near as loud as the thick, uncomfortable silence that had started to settle between you.

A while is sort of a massive understatement. You haven’t seen him in… four? Five years? Not since you left college and he accepted the job offer of a lifetime, pulling him all the way to the other side of the country. Not since, despite your shared willingness to try, you realised that the whole long-distance thing didn’t work for either of you; not since you ended up calling time on your relationship after just four months of being apart.

Ending things meant saying goodbye to amost two and a half years though, in total.

You’d you’d never been broken up with over a video call before. It fucking sucked.

“I didn’t know you were around,” you say instead of answering the obvious. “Are you just here for this, or…?”

Chan takes a long sip from his drink and finishes the glass, pushing it away from himself. He shakes his head, scrunching his nose a little. You were surprised not to see him with some sort of a whiskey in-hand, so his reaction to the chug makes sense: he was never that big into wines. Some things never change.

“I got promoted. Came with a relocation,” he tells you. This time, he turns his head and looks at you properly, a small smile tugging up the corners of his lips.

“Oh, shit. Congratulations,” you offer, tilting your now mostly empty glass in his direction before draining the little bit in the bottom, just like he did. You know it’s probably all in your own head that the fizz gives you a bit of a confidence boost, but you find the nerve to move to face him fully: you’ve never been one to turn your nose up at a positive coincidence, after all. “That’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” he says, bowing his head. “It’s… good to be back.”

A few seconds later, he tags on, “and it’s really good to see you.”

The bartender comes back to see if she can get you anything else to drink now you’ve finally finished your champagne and Chan puts his card down for a round of your choosing. It helps loosen up the tension in your shoulders, stops you bouncing your leg against the rest beneath your seat, makes it a little bit easier to settle into a back and forth with him. Eventually, the conversation starts to flow as if you were never really apart.

You laugh at his bad jokes. Chan shoves you playfully when you make some back. He gets so invested in catching up on what’s been going on in your life that he doesn’t even tell you what the promotion he got is, nor where he’s been relocated to.

As the following few hours tick by, he doesn’t leave your side. Even when people come over to talk to him, even when your friends’ eyes start to find you together and linger, as they attempt to read your lips, pick apart your body language, as they begin whispering behind their hands. He takes exactly one bathroom break, and he finds his way straight back to the chair he left. He even scoots it a little bit closer.

And the longer he stays glued to your left, the more you find yourself starting to hope a little harder that wherever he’s living now, it’s not too far away. That whatever him being ‘back’ means, something happens because of it.

Your something comes in the form of your companion trying to persuade you to get up and dance with him. He fails, numerous times; you have a whole arsenal of excuses, some of which are recycled and things that he heard a very long time ago, but others are new. He raises his eyebrows at a couple of them, though you don’t know if he’s just shocked at your attempts or actually impressed. None of them work on him though. You should have remembered that he wasn’t a quitter.

“My shoes hurt,” you tell him on attempt number five. “You go, I’ll stay here.”

Clearly, this line of defence isn’t good enough either.

“Just one song,” Chan asks again as he stands up from his chair and picks up one of your wrists, this time. You look down at where he’s holding you, but he doesn’t. “Please? Just… for me?”

“When was the last time I did anything ‘just for you’?” You scoff incredulously, shaking your head.

It doesn’t. His eyes soften and he takes a small step closer to you, those perfect lips of his pressing into a pout.

He drops his fingers lower and squeezes your hand lightly. “Too long ago. I miss it.”

Something in his stare looks a little far away and you wonder what exactly it is that he’s thinking about. Is he remembering the times you would bring him his favourite snacks when he was sick, ice his injuries after gruelling dance practices, brush sleep out of his eyes early in the mornings when he stayed up too late and couldn’t get out of bed, but really needed to make it to his 8AM classes? Is he remembering when you’d put band-aids on his papercuts? Make sure his laptop was fully charged when he had long study days? Pick him and his friends up from the bars and let him lean all his weight against you as you dragged him into your apartment?

(Those needy nights where you’d let him call you the prettiest girl in the world as he snuggled into your side and nuzzled his cold nose against your warm cheek? When you’d let him tell you, without even rolling your eyes, that you were his everything, the reason he had any strength, the love of his life, the only person he’d ever need—)

He uses your distractedness to his full advantage; as soon as the muscles in your arm go slack, he pulls you again and this time succeeds in getting you to your feet. You stumble a few steps towards him and he ends up leading you all the way over to the dance floor, grinning proudly the entire time.

“One song,” you stress, hanging your head to try and conceal the fact that you’re definitely blushing hard.

“Just one,” he lies, glancing back at you.

You know he's lying, too. High-flying job aside, he’s always been a dancer at heart: when he turns around to face you, there’s a glint in his eyes that says ‘one... or five.’

Confirming your suspicions, seven songs later, you’re still up there with him. You’ve stopped caring about your dumb shoes, or having too many sets of eyes on you, or whether anyone here is murmuring about it. How could you mind, when he keeps finding little ways to touch you again? When he’s singing his heart out, serenading you with corny 90’s love songs, hand on his heart and everything?

How could you mind, when he so clearly doesn’t care?

And the thing is… no part of you thinks that this is a bad idea. It could never be a bad thing to let somebody make your heart race this way and your brain so fuzzy; just seeing him grin at you as he extends his hand out, waiting for you to take it, feels like being twenty one all over again. And when he spins you and spins you and spins you until you’re dizzy, falling over your own feet and staggering until you land against his solid chest, laughing… when he catches you in both arms, and darts his tongue out over his lips at the exact moment you look at his face…

Perhaps your rare moment of unabashed bravery is spurred on by the way he drinks you up like an elixir. Perhaps it’s spurred on by the way he adjusts himself to hold you tighter against him, perhaps it’s spurred on by the fact that this right here is exactly what you feel like you’ve been missing. Whatever the reason, you hook a finger through one of the belt-loops on his pants and manage to find your voice long enough to speak.

“My room or yours?” You ask, quietly enough only for him to hear, loudly enough that he can’t mistake you.

Letting out a breathy chuckle, he brings his palm up between your shoulder blades. “Don’t care,” he says, ducking lower and brushing the tip of his nose against your own. “Just… pick one. As soon as possible.”

A few people have already started to leave: couples with young families, older relatives who are getting tired, friends who have work in the morning, so you don’t feel too bad about slipping out into the corridor with Chan in tow as soon as you’ve grabbed your things. The elevator door closes behind you and you feel the mechanism start to pull you upwards, away from the hotel’s function room and towards the fourth floor to your own suite. Chan presses kiss after kiss to the back of your neck as soon as you’re alone, hands slipping around your waist and joining together just below your belly-button.

“They have… cameras in these, you know,” you sigh, tilting your head to give him better access anyway.

He chuckles quietly, nosing just behind your ear. “Okay?” He says, kissing you there too, bunching your dress in his hand and pulling it a little higher up your thigh. “So what?”

“So… fucking… public indecency,” you laugh, a little taken aback by his brazenness.

It’s hard to be stern with him when he’s acting as if he never forgot how to press every single one of your buttons. Hell, as if he never stopped pushing them, in the first place. You lay one hand over both of his and squeeze gently, encouraging his teeth to keep grazing over the skin of your shoulder. You’ve never had any resolve when it comes to him. He clearly hasn’t forgotten.

Just as you’re relaxing into it, the elevator pings and you jolt away from him just in time for the door to open. The middle aged woman waiting to get in eyes you both as you rush out into the hallway and Chan grabs hold of your hand: you’re fairly sure she sucks her front teeth just before the door closes, but you don’t care. You’re too busy counting the rooms until you get to yours.

409, 410, 411…

“You look so fucking good right now,” Chan groans as you whip turn a corner and he quickens his pace to catch up, walking so fast he should probably be running instead.

421, 422…

“423,” you breathe, fumbling in your purse for the key-card.

In a flash, you wave it over the sensor and pull down on the handle: before you have the chance to get dizzy from the speed of the turn, Chan has you pressed against the door from the inside. He doesn’t wait to be invited. He barely gives you the chance to catch your breath from your power-walk from the reception. Both his hands press into your hips when he brings his mouth down against yours, lips scorching hot, lifted up at the edges in a grin. Your knees go weak and you hold onto his biceps for stability, which… maybe, with how thick and sturdy they feel beneath your palms, isn’t a great way to help you calm down.

When his tongue presses into your mouth and he tastes you for the first time in what feels like forever, you know the only thing keeping you standing is his strength. His hands, pinning you to the wood behind you. His body, pressing against you everywhere it possibly can. His muscular thigh, slotted between yours, giving you something to relax down against but also, to find a tiny little bit of friction from.

He dips down a little lower, looping his hands around you just below your ass, and with a quick movement he lifts you up off the floor completely. You hook your ankles together behind him, shifting to get higher up on his hips: when he steps away from the door, you drop your head down to his shoulder and a smirk replaces his prior very needy expression, feeling how warm you are at your core now your dress has hiked up around your waist.

“Say you want me,” he says, licking a stripe up the side of your neck. He knows you do.

“Huh?”

Chan repeats, “say you want me.”

You grasp harder at his hair and pull, but he doesn’t move away from your neck, just keeps kissing you at your sweet-spot until he’s walked a few paces to the middle of the room, holding you up over the hotel’s generously sized bed.

“Say you want me, and I’m yours.”

He’s… yours?

It takes you a moment to process it but you don’t have to think twice about how you respond, even though your stomach flips at this very open-hearted confession. The entire way back up here, part of you expected this to be little more than a one-night-only special event, but…

“Shit,” you whine, feeling his fingers slip beneath the thin fabric of your underwear at your hip and tug. He pulls back from you at the sound of your voice, determined to look you in the eyes when you say it.

Faces just inches apart, you admit, “I– I want you, Chan. Please. I want you so much.”

He bounces you up a little bit higher to get you to unhook your ankles and proceeds to basically drop you down onto the mattress, pushing both his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and reaching for his necktie. In a manner you can only describe as obscenely smooth, he grabs the knot and pulls, tugging it side to side to make it looser. The expensive silk comes undone easily. He balls it in his fist. You watch him toss his tie to the side, snap open a few more buttons, and with heavily lidded eyes, he plants one knee on the comforter, before crawling up the length of your body until you’re face-to-face again.

You take care of the remaining buttons on his shirt for him as he trails his lips all over your throat, your chest, your shoulders: even down your arms, to the crooks of your elbows, everywhere he can reach with your clothes still on. When his upper body is bare, he disregards the fact that you’re still wearing anything at all and kisses down your torso anyway.

He lays between your thighs and presses his lips to them, too, pushing your dress up higher until it’s bunched up around your ribcage. One of his hands pushes your panties to the side and the other one reaches up to grab hold of yours, pulling it down to lace your fingers back into his hair. You do as he silently asks, and you swear his eyes roll back into his head at the first little pull.

Chan always liked giving, but he loved it when you used him like a little toy, tugging and moving him around until you couldn’t handle him anymore.

Some things never change.

You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to do this. That you could take him now, if he wanted to hurry and get to it, because you’re already feeling yourself flutter at the thought of having him buried inside you. But his lips part and you feel the tip of his tongue drag through your folds, separating them, exposing you; he collects your arousal and swallows it back, pressing his tongue into your hole, swirling it around your clit, sending sparks up and down your spine.

That ridiculous, stupid idea dies magnificently. You let Chan lose himself in you, and in equal parts, you lose yourself in him. In the cold bite of the ring decorating his middle finger as he trails them down your sensitive skin, in the way he grunts and moans and praises you between your legs. You selfish– and selfless–ly let him have his way, right up until you feel so tense you could snap.

Sure, you could let yourself come undone like this. Easily. In seconds, even, because he’s got you right there and you’re battling not to let it wash over you. But there’s something you need even more than the euphoria of your own release.

You scrunch your fist in his strands so hard that it forces him to pull away from you, gasping and cringing at the sting. At this, before he has the chance to ask what’s wrong, why you’ve stopped, if you’re okay, you press up onto one elbow, straps hanging off your shoulders, your own hair a mess. Somehow, Chan still looks up at you with glittering eyes, so shiny you can see their sweet, questioning gaze even in the dark.

“Need you, now,” you tell him, your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. He wipes over his lips on the back of his hand and nods, pulling himself up onto his knees. You let go of him and tug your dress up over your head while he fiddles with the buckle on his belt.

“Flip over,” he says huskily, tugging it free just as quickly as he did with his tie, and when it thunks to the floor, you hear him start to move his pants down his legs too.

You do as he says, turning onto your front, bracing yourself on your knees with your hands clasped together beneath your head. Your back arches naturally for him, pressing your hips higher into the air; his breath catches at the sight of you, your perfect ass, your dribbling pussy.

It’s his favourite view. Always has been. Shit, nothing since the last time he was with you has ever come close.

“Deep breath for me,” he says, so soft in comparison to the way his fingers on one hand grasp at your hip and you feel the blunt edges of his nails digging into your skin. You inhale through your mouth, loud enough for him to hear. “That’s it. My good girl.”

He’s so fucking hard when he finally drags his tip through your folds, so heavy and thick when he pushes inside you inch by inch. The stretch is more intense than you remember, and despite slowly letting the breath you sucked in leave your lungs, you feel all of your muscles go tense. Your eyes squeeze shut. Your torso goes tight. You know your cunt hugs him because of how he lets go of his length and lays his hand flat in the middle of your back, dragging his thumb back and forth, trying to soothe you through it.

“Easy,” he says to you, slowing but not stopping until he’s buried all the way inside you. He’s so deep, you swear he nudges something he shouldn’t. So far inside you that you don’t know what to do with yourself. “Relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

It’s a little difficult when you feel more full now than you ever have, but slowly, you manage to loosen up and it’s only when you give a small nod of your head and an 'mhm' that he starts to rock his hips back and forth. Shallow, to start with, but with the angle he slides into you at, he might as well be going full depth, full force, full speed with how feverish this already is. You bunch the comforter in your fist, letting those familiar sensations of being fucked by Chan take over, letting the discomfort subside until it's replaced only by pleasure.

By which point, he's stopped treating you like a fragile doll, and has started to handle you like the person he wishes he never lost.

Those dancer hips haven't gone to waste, you realise, as he snaps them fluidly into you, the harsh slap of skin-on-skin punctuating every single sound that escapes you both. Sometimes, he pulls you back, spearing you wholly on his length, letting you do some of the work and control the pace. Sometimes, he holds you completely still so that he can have it all.

At all times, you feel yourself losing your mind piece by piece. Though you've tried to be with other people since that horrendous breakup, it's never managed to stick, and you find yourself thinking that maybe in a way, you were waiting for him. Hoping that one day, he'd waltz his way back into your life and sweep you off your feet and make sure you never forgot just how well he can give it to you. Praying that the universe was going to give you another chance.

One of his hands slips around your waist, now, and you feel him come down lower, pressing his chest against your back. His thrusts stop being so long and instead, he settles for harsh, deep ruts. His fingers find and start strumming over your clit, and you can feel yourself start to break apart with gasps and choked moans and whines of his name.

You're done for, and he knows it, but he still teases you as he kisses up your spine.

"Wanna feel you come, pretty girl," he says. His fingers move so easily that it takes everything you have not to collapse beneath him. “Missed feeling this pretty pussy around me. Wasn’t the same watching you play with it on the phone.”

You hide your face in the comforter and gasp, that beautiful heat starting to rise up inside you again. “Fuck, Chan—”

“That’s it,” he guides you, grunting with every little spasm of your walls. “Missed you so much.”

“I missed— missed—” you try to say, but he finds just the right pattern to make you squeak and you tug harder at the sheets. “Oh my God—”

Your universe explodes as he hits just the right spot inside you and you feel your peak slam through you, hips jerking back to meet his until there’s no room for any air to pass between your bodies. Chan stills, letting you ride yourself through it, easing up a little with the pressure of his fingers but still keeping them moving to milk every ounce of pleasure that he can from you.

With your thighs still shaking, you buckle downwards and he slips out of you unintentionally as you fight to catch your breath. You’re still seeing spots, still trying to put your thoughts in the right order, but when he smooths his hands over your ass and down the backs of your thighs, still up on his knees behind you, you slowly start to come back to Earth.

You slowly move round to lie on your back so you can look up at him, his still hard, now soaked cock sitting heavily against his thigh. He settles his hands on your knees, and you lean over to the side to pass your finger over one of the light switches. The one behind the headboard flickers to life and illuminates him: a sheen of sweat makes his broad frame gleam, his rosy blush makes your chest stutter.

“I missed you too,” you say quietly, unsure now if he was just saying so in the heat of the moment or if it was the truth.

You never needed to worry, though. Not if the way he drops down onto one elbow and kisses your newly regained breath straight back out of your lungs, cupping your cheek with his other hand is anything to go by.

“You meant it, then? You really want me?” He asks, pulling away only to drag his thumb over the corner of your mouth. You nod, turning your head a little and pursing your lips forward, pressing a kiss to his skin.

“I never stopped,” you tell him.

Little celebratory fireworks start to dance in his pretty eyes.

“Yeah?” He breathes, rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him. “Good. Neither did I.”

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated.<3 thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated.<3

#lee chan smut #dino smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #kpop smut #dino x you #dino x reader #dino imagines #j writes.#mw500party!#*

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haggishlyhagging · 10 days

Text

It took about two hours for Daina Taimina to find the solution that had eluded mathematicians for over a century. It was 1997, and the Latvian mathematician was participating in a geometry workshop at Cornell University. David Henderson, the professor leading the workshop, was modelling a hyperbolic plane constructed out of thin, circular strips of paper taped together. 'It was disgusting,' laughed Taimina in an interview.

A hyperbolic plane is 'the geometric opposite' of a sphere, explains Henderson in an interview with arts and culture magazine Cabinet. 'On a sphere, the surface curves in on itself and is closed. A hyperbolic plane is a surface in which the space curves away from itself at every point.' It exists in nature in ruffled lettuce leaves, in coral leaf, in sea slugs, in cancer cells. Hyperbolic geometry is used by statisticians when they work with multidimensional data, by Pixar animators when they want to simulate realistic cloth, by auto-industry engineers to design aerodynamic cars, by acoustic engineers to design concert halls. It's the foundation of the theory of relativity, and thus the closest thing we have to an understanding of the shape of the universe. In short, hyperbolic space is a pretty big deal.

But for thousands of years, hyperbolic space didn't exist. At least it didn't according to mathematicians, who believed that there were only two types of space: Euclidean, or flat space, like a table, and spherical space, like a ball. In the nineteenth century, hyperbolic space was discovered - but only in principle. And although mathematicians tried for over a century to find a way to successfully represent this space physically, no one managed it - until Taimina attended that workshop at Cornell. Because as well as being a professor of mathematics, Taimina also liked to crochet.

Taimina learnt to crochet as a schoolgirl. Growing up in Latvia, part of the former Soviet Union, 'you fix your own car, you fix your own faucet - anything', she explains. 'When I was growing up, knitting or any other handiwork meant you could make a dress or a sweater different from everybody else's.' But while she had always seen patterns and algorithms in knitting and crochet, Taimina had never connected this traditional, domestic, feminine skill with her professional work in maths. Until that workshop in 1997. When she saw the battered paper approximation Henderson was using to explain hyperbolic space, she realised: I can make this out of crochet.

And so that's what she did. She spent her summer 'crocheting a classroom set of hyperbolic forms' by the swimming pool. 'People walked by, and they asked me, "What are you doing?" And I answered, "Oh, I'm crocheting the hyperbolic plane."' She has now created hundreds of models and explains that in the process of making them 'you get a very concrete sense of the space expanding exponentially. The first rows take no time but the later rows can take literally hours, they have so many stitches. You get a visceral sense of what "hyperbolic" really means.' Just looking at her models did the same for others: in an interview with the New York Times Taimina recalled a professor who had taught hyperbolic space for years seeing one and saying, 'Oh, so that's how they look.' Now her creations are the standard model for explaining hyperbolic space.

-Caroline Criado Perez, Invisible Women

Photo credit

#caroline criado perez #Daina Taimina #women in stem #women’s history #women in science #crochet #crocheting #female mathematicians #hyperbolic space

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parkerpeter24 · 9 months

Note

We need the date with pool instructor!Peter Parker

since you asked in bold-

pairing ➳ swim instructor!peter parker x reader

warnings ➳ slightly nsfw towards the end. making out and regular date stuff.

masterlist

“what have you got there?” you pointed behind his back but it was clearly evident that he was hiding a bouquet of flowers.

he finally brought it in between the two of you, standing at your doorstep, “i didn’t know which ones you like, so i got some of the most popular ones.” he chuckled nervously, handing you the mosaic of flowers.

you admired the roses, lilies, orchids and tulips, smiling wide as you took the bouquet from his hands, “i love them.”

you and peter had hung around the pool earlier in the morning but he told you that he wanted to take you out on a proper first date. so he suggested dinner and the boy was not even a second late.

as soon as the clock struck 7, he was there at your door, knocking and handing you these flowers.

the two of you made your way to the place he’d chosen for dinner, telling you about how it was his favorite place and the reason behind it.

“this was my uncle’s favorite place too.” you could tell by the way he smiled, so reminiscent, that it was a distant memory of his.

“it sounds great already.” you smiled, linking your arm with his as you walked, the place being just two blocks away from your place and all, “do you have a favorite?”

“oh, the chocolate truffle there is to die for!” you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his remark.

“so do you suggest we have that for dinner?”

“um, duh.”

dinner couldn’t have gone better. in fact, at one point you concluded it was the best dinner of your life. you got to know peter so much better. he was so much more than just the hot swimmer you knew from community pool who had once held onto your waist to teach you kicking. he was so much different from than any man you’ve ever met. so much better.

he told you about his school life and even though he didn’t highlight much, you could tell he was very good at everything he did. you got to know about his passion for science and that he was an assistant teacher of chemistry at esu just a year ago.

“how did i even score a date with you.” you wondered out loud, making him laugh.

he shrugged, “i’m honestly wondering the same thing.” you caught a hue of pink over his cheeks as he leaned forward, “it feels like i’ve been the only one talking all this time.”

“i don’t mind.” you flashed him a smile.

“no! you should tell me more about you.” he insisted.

and so you did. you told him about your likes and dislikes, about your favorite music and foods, about your only best friend who was there for you through thick and thin, about the good birthdays and the bad ones, about small things that you recalled from the past. and peter listened throughout, making you laugh with his reactions every once in a while.

“you were right. those were some good truffles.” you sighed.

the two of you found yourselves walking back to your place as the night wind drifted past you, making your hair flow with it. peter’s hand was in yours now as you leaned more towards him.

“told you.” he smirked, “i can never go wrong with a good dessert. that’s my superpower.” he chuckled.

“you seem to have a lot of them.” you smirked right back at him, watching as his face suddenly morphed into confusion.

“n-no. just the one, actually... that’s all i got.” you thought you were getting better at reading the brunette but his nervous laugh confused you a little.

“i meant to say that you’re really good in swimming, and you’re kind of smart at an inhumane level from what i heard, so...” you trailed off, letting out a chuckle to ease the situation a little more.

“oh.” he let out a breath of air, “right.”

in less than a minute, the two of you were climbing the strairs of your apartment building. your apartment was just on the second floor, thus, you opted for them.

after leaving you to your door, peter stood with his arms behind his back, right where he had been about two hours ago. the night seemed to have ended way too soon but you didn’t know if it was okay to invite him in.

“can you-”

“could i-”

both of you decided to speak at the same time, making the other one stop suddenly.

“you go.” peter chuckled softly.

“would you... would you like to stay? for a while, you know.” you gave him a small shrug, “we could watch a movie or...”

there was a slight pause as his eyes trailed over your lips as they moved. he responded with a nod of his head.

and in the blink of an eye you were pushing open your door, just to drag him along you inside the place by the collar of his flannel. his lips were on yours and hands placed on either side of your waist– this time for a better purpose. you just hoped your place wasn’t as big of a mess but your thoughts blurred as his frame pushed you against the wooden door, it making a sound as it locked in place.

peter’s hands were doing all the good things, setting your skin on fire as they trailed down to your hips, pulling your legs to wrap around his slim waist. your arms snaked around his shoulders as you tilted your head, only deepening the kiss that you started.

his teeth bit onto your lower lip and his tongue followed to soothe the blissful ache. you parted your lips further, tangling your tongue with his. a battle of tongues, only for peter to back off and let you take control. you both knew he was way too stronger than you.

your hand ran down the length of his arm, feeling the taut muscles of his biceps before. a slight squeeze from your hand as you wrapped it around his wrist and peter knew what to do.

he pulled you along with him, gracefully carrying you with him as he tried to find his way to your bedroom.

you pointed at the room in one of the corner and peter followed suit as your lips attached to the skin of his jaw. you trailed small kisses along his jawline, until they weren’t small anymore. you bit onto his skin, soothing the bite with your tongue just like peter had done earlier.

peter was quick to wrap his right arm around you, supporting you up as his left hand got busy with opening your bedroom door, walking inside before he kicked the door shut.

it was more than safe to say that the truffle wasn’t the best thing you were having tonight.

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter smut

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latelyanobsession · 2 years

Text

Ripe

summary enjoying your favorite summertime snack around the wrong company can be a very dangerous thing to do.

warnings cursing, lots of heat, smut, slight food play, oral fixation-ish, praise, semi-public & risky

word count 1,912

note i will say that inspiration strikes at the oddest of moments

As always any feedback is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It was a beautiful summer day as you walked through the gates of the Hawkins Pool.

Tilting your sunglasses up you scanned the bustling scene for your boyfriend, your ears perking up as a shrill whistle entered the air followed by harsh barking words.

There he was. Berating a pair of twelve-year-old boys for dunking each other in the 5-foot end of the pool.

Pursing your lips around your fingers you mustered a sound capable of hailing a taxi cab. Smiling, you gave him a large wave as he snapped his head in your direction.

Coming over to Billy’s side of the pool you crossed your arms and waited for him to finish his lecture.

“You wanna die today kid?” the one boy still ashamedly grasping his friend by the collar.

The boy shook his head furiously.

Looming over them menacingly Billy waved them apart, blowing his whistle sharply.

“Didn’t think so.” he scoffed turning to face you.

“Another life saved.” you mused sarcastically.

He smirked, eyes appraising the small sundress on your frame.

“You staying to swim today?” he asked curiously.

You had yet to come to the pool for a swim. Thus far only stopping by to share lunch breaks or say hi on your days off, and he was beginning to worry that you were ducking him.

Allaying his fears, you slyly pulled aside the strap of your dress revealing a thin red bikini strap.

A small groan escaped his lips.

“Good.”

Pulling the beach bag from your opposite shoulder, you took Billy’s hand as he walked you to a small patch of shade in the grass.

Sitting together, you pulled out a couple brown paper lunch sacks and water bottles.

Taking his, Billy pulled out a sandwich biting into it immediately.

You giggled, pulling a peach from your lunch bag.

“Wha?” he questioned, ripping off another large portion.

The sandwich was nearly gone.

“Had I known they worked you this hard, I would have brought you two.” you said tenderly.

He chewed thoughtfully before swallowing, opening the small bag of chips with a pop.

“Would you like mine?” you offered.

He almost looked offended, waving his hands in refusal.

“Billy, if you’re still hungry have mine.” you pulled out your sandwich, putting it in his lap.

“It’s not the end of the world...” you smiled encouragingly.

He swallowed hard. Guilty, childlike eyes of appreciation looking back at you.

“Thanks.” he ripped the tinfoil off and tucked into it with vigor as you turned your attentions to your own lunch.

The peach was soft and ripe, giving way with an audible squelch as you bit into its smooth flesh.

It may have actually been a little overripe as juice flowed from the fruit down your chin. Dripping onto your chest and traveling to rest between your cleavage.

You pulled away with a messy mouthful, closing your lips with a loud slurp.

“This was messier then I thought it would be...” you commented innocently, taking another graphic bite.

Billy was slowly chewing, his ears burning with the first wet sounds falling from your lips.

He was watching you now with rapt attention.

Watching those delicate pink pillows wrap and press themselves against the skin of that sinfully moist food.

Teeth and tongue scraping for the exquisitely sweet meat it had to offer you.

Your mouth pulling off in a lewd, wet burst. Lips shimmering.

You looked immensely content and it was driving him absolutely insane.

Taking care to suckle the last bits of goodness from the pit, you hummed happily.

“I’m a mess. Lemme go clean off... be back in a sec.” you insisted, sucking a bit of juice from your thumb.

Rising to your feet, you wandered towards the women’s locker rooms, tossing the pit in the trash.

Entering the locker rooms you headed off towards the sinks, when a large hand wrapped itself around your wrist and jerked you inside a nearby changing stall.

About to yell, your eyes widened when you realized who it was.

“Billy?!” you whispered harshly. “You can’t be in here!”

You gruffly pulled the privacy curtain over the entrance, encasing yourselves in the small space.

“Relax...” he murmured with a leer, “the supply closet connects the men’s.”

You weren’t relaxed.

“Why’re you in here?” you inquired, bashfully meeting his eyes.

The corner of his mouth pricked up in sick delight as his broad arms pinned you in on both sides.

Your toes curled in anticipation, resting a palm flat against his bare chest.

You knew that look anywhere. And he knew.

He knew damn well that he didn’t even have to lay a finger on you, and you would fall right into whatever scheme he was concocting.

He rarely if ever had to ask.

“Here?” you breathed, slightly panicked as the voices of women chattering passed by the curtain and out the door.

He gave a stern nod, his hand lazily lifting one strap of your dress. Drawing it down your shoulder.

Heat was pooling between your legs, a familiar ache overwhelming your core as you chewed your lip.

“Think you can handle a lil’ challenge princess?” his opposite hand dragging down your other strap, pulling the dress downward and exposing your bright crimson bikini top.

You looked over at the drape, considering your last momentary thoughts of sanity before locking eyes with him.

Nodding nervously, your head fell back against the stall wall as he instantly attacked you.

Diving, he dipped his face between your breasts, his tongue seeking out the sticky sweet trail of fruit juice that had fallen among them.

A sharp gasp of surprise fell from your mouth, feeling him run his tongue in a thick, flat strip up the length of your sternum approaching your collar bone.

Momentarily pausing at your pulse point, he nipped your skin, testing you.

You bit your lip, holding in a small cry, rolling your hips against him in protest.

“Good girl” he muttered, moving his assault northward.

Craning your neck, pressing yourself flush against the cool metal wall, you attempted to ground yourself.

His tongue creeping over your chin reaching its final destination.

Biting your lower lip, he pulled you into a hungry kiss. Laving his tongue against your plush lips. Demanding entry, which you willingly obliged.

Slipping your fingers beneath the elastic of his trunks, you ground yourself against him. A low rumble of approval emanating from his throat as his growing arousal pressed up against you.

Deepening the kiss, his hands traveled south roughly grasping your ass, his fingers digging harshly into the skin, making you whimper.

“Have you always owned this set?” he rasped, leaving open mouthed kisses along your jaw and tickling the shell of your ear.

“I bought it two days ago” you squeaked, as a hand cupped your sex.

A deep growl of satisfaction met your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Looks sexy” he commented, hooking a finger in the crotch of your high-leg bottoms and shifting them aside.

An intense thrum of pleasure rumbled in his chest as he lightly dusted his fingers across your folds.

“Ya just make this too easy princess...” dipping his digits lightly at your entrance he withdrew them, to show you. The clear viscous fluid dripping from his fingers.

You looked to the ceiling in silent prayer before returning your gaze to him.

“I can’t help it.” you simpered as he held out his fingers for you.

Taking them into your mouth, you wrapped your tongue around them longingly only to whine lightly as he pulled them from you, replacing his mouth on yours in a searing kiss.

A conceited huff passed his lips, fanning your face. Your hips stuttering as he slipped a single finger inside you.

Idly wagging it, pressing lightly against the spot that could make you scream.

“Ya seem plenty ready to me... What cha’ think princess?” he taunted.

Deep cerulean orbs boring into you for an answer.

Chuffing, a deep blush settled across your cheeks, you were wound tighter than a spring.

“Just... fuck me” you heaved, wrapping your hands around his neck.

A broad smirk broke across his lips as he grabbed your ass, hoisting you up his waist. Pressing you firmly between himself and the wall.

Freeing his erection from his trunks, he lined himself up against your entrance, sinking into your heat.

Your jaw clenched, biting your lip hard to quiet yourself as you wrapped your legs around him.

“Shit princess...” his head lolling at a full tilt, “so fuckin’ tight.”

You whimpered softly, the light sting of the sudden intrusion making you clench reflexively.

“Always so fuckin’....” he drew back “tight...” thrusting deep.

You choked out an audible moan, your head hitting the wall.

“C’mon now princess... we’re just gettin’ started.” he tutted.

Picking up a steady pace, he claimed your lips. Swallowing down your pathetic whines and pleading cries.

Angling his hips, he drove deeper making your head swim.

“Billy...” you mewled softly, tucking your head against his neck to stifle yourself.

“Somethin’ ta say princess?” he growled with a harsh snap of his hips. The head of his cock hitting your cervix.

You always played this game. The longer it took for you to choke it out, the harder he was going to make it for you.

He rolled his hips, burying himself deep pressing against that nub in a way that could make you cry and wipe your mind blank.

“Speak up...” he taunted, nudging himself up against your sensitivity.

“Ngh...” looking at him through hooded eyes you tried to gain what control you had.

Another abrupt thrust.

Your eyes rolling, you managed what you could.

“Fuck me...” a sharp inhale, “so well...”

He was smiling like the cheshire cat.

“That so princess?” his pace was gaining steam, your nails grappling against his back for better hold.

A calloused thumb had found your clit, providing constant pressure in unrelenting circles.

Your back was arching, breath hitching, as your hips started to tremble.

“Billy...” you warned.

“Tell me... say it...” he ground out.

Your walls were beginning to flutter, your climax initiating.

Kissing the juncture of his jaw, your first contraction hit you with a low moan reaching his ear.

“No one... fucks my pussy like you.” and you tumbled into bliss. Resting your head on his shoulder, forgetting completely about the noises you needed to withhold.

He gave in, pistoning his hips. Making you cry out. Locking you into a final kiss as he fell apart, fist slamming against the wall to steady himself as he filled you.

Still meeting you with lazy thrusts, he looked at you, resting your foreheads together.

You were breathless as he set you down gently, your legs still shaking.

Your eyes were wide and glazed like a doll’s.

He adored you this way. Fucked speechless and twice as beautiful.

Tucking a hair away from your kiss-bitten lips, he nipped you sweetly.

“You better shower before going in princess.” he stated.

You looked at him confused.

“Pool rules....” he tapped his whistle smugly.

Giving you one last peck, he poked his head out the curtain before casually strolling off.

A half hour later, after you pulled yourself together and took an extremely cold shower.... you came back out to the pool.

In your new suit you self-consciously waded into the shallows, wondering where he was.

A shrill sound startling you.

Whipping around you saw him smirking over you, before walking away.

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wonsunism · 5 months

Text

ENHYPEN IMAGINES

CONTEXT: Enhypen members (except for Ni_ki) reacting to public teasing (including anything outside the house)

!warnings: smut

SWIMMING POOL

heeseung could barely hold himself back when you were looking so scrumptious in that two-piece swimming suit. your curves were standing out, and his cock was, well, standing up. he swam towards you, touching your waist and pulling you closer to him. it didn't take more than 2 seconds for you to feel how hard he was, as you lifted your head to make eye contact with him. his eyes were saying everything straight. he wanted you so badly. heeseung pushed you, softly, agaisnt the border of the pool.

"you look so beautiful, you know? too beautiful for me to let you go home unfucked"

heeseung pushed himself slowly, rubbing his body against yours. his dick was getting harder and harder while grinding on you. regardless of all the people around you, he didn't stop. he was feeling too good.

BUS

unluckily, the bus you were taking home was so cramped you barely found a seat. jay held your hand the whole time, until you finally noticed an empty seat all the way in the back. jay sat down, pulling you down on his lap. he hugged you from behind, keeping you warm. however, you didn't feel quite comfortable so you moved an inch, and that was all it took for jay's eyes to widen. wrong move. as you were sitting down, you felt how jay was getting hard, making you swallow hard. not that you wouldn't like it, but you were worried.

"jay?" you whispered.

"don't say a word"

jay grabbed your thighs with his palms and pushed you down harder, biting his lips and opening his legs slowly. he kept moving you up and down his cock, his hot breath hiting you neck.

FRIENDS' PARTY

sitting down on the couch, you and jake were cuddling into each other, waiting for your friends to come back from the kitchen. you stood up, though, to close one of the pointless lights turned on, yet accidently dropped your phone on the floor. how clumsy. you bent down, forgetting maybe for a second about your mini skirt and the fact that your boyfriend was right behind you. as you were picking up your phone, you felt jake's hand softly touching your exposed ass, going down your outer thigh and pulling you back next to him.

"you think you can save yourself from this so easily?"

your boyfriend grabbed your right hand, guiding it to the bulge formed in his pants and pressing it down on it. jake threw his head back, biting his lower lip. the way he wished you could just suck him off right that second. cursed party.

CHANGING ROOM

sunghoon was not the strongest soldier when it came to clothes shopping, but he was still trying his best to make you happy. as for now, holding at least 15 tops while following you to the changing cabin. he came inside with you, as this one had no shelves to put down the clothes. he kept holding them, watching you taking off your t-shirt. fuck. the way sunghoon felt couldn't be put into words. your tits looked so hot in that black push-up bra you were wearing. your t-shirt got stuck because of your hair claw, yet instead of helping you, he kept staring at your chest, obsessively.

"sunghoon, help me" you whined in frustration.

your boyfriend dropped all the tops on the floor and pushed you against the wall. he helped you take off your shirt, but that was not all. he started massaging your tits through the material of your bra as he raised one knee up, teasing your pussy.

FOREST

you and sunoo were going on a walk in nature, though you were "lucky" enough to fall in a mud puddle, getting your brand-new skirt all ruined. sunoo helped you get up, kissing your forehead.

"are you okay, my love?"

sunoo took off his trench, putting it on around your shoulders. you felt bad, worrying you might get it dirty too with your skirt. his trench was long enough to cover up most of your lower side. thus, you took the skirt off, giving it to your boyfriend to hold. you planned to button up, but you plans were ruined by sunoo approaching you closer, his hand going down your pussy. you haven't noticed earlier, but you were wearing his favourite panties, the cute pink ones he loved so much. he teased you, pulling them up, making you cross your legs. maybe falling in that puddle was a happy accident after all.

PARKING GARAGE

jungwon was driving home, while you, passenger princess, were scrolling down on tiktok. arrived as you were, your boyfriend parked the car inside the garage, turning the engine off and leaving the car. gentleman as he is, he walked around the vehicle, opening your door and holding your hand while you got off. but in that exact second, something came up in jungwon's mind, an image of you playing in one of these marketing ads for car cleaning, with hot drenched girls rubbing the car's windows while barely wearing anything. as random as it was, jungwon couldn't stop thinking about it, laying you down on the car's hood, leaning closer to you.

"you know you make my mind so dirty"

jungwon started making out with your neck, thinking about the scenario in his head, rubbing himself against you. he was so hard already, making you wet instantly. fuck, the garage door was still open, though.

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Text

Drip

18+

Fuckboy College Bucky x Reader

This is just dirty af.

No thots, just:

It was hot.

You hummed contently, stretched out on a patio chair with an ice cream cone in hand while the rest of your friends lounged in the pool or mingled on the side; the summer heat making your treat melt faster than you’d like.

Before you could catch the dribble with your tongue, it ran down the cone, over your finger's and onto your chest; you’d managed to avoid getting any on your bikini thus far but it was nearly impossible. Your tongue darted out again, twirling around the scoop of vanilla, before running it along the side of your cone to catch the melting drops.

You were in your own world, too busy to notice the way you had driven Bucky up the wall, his steel blue eyes locked on you and the sweet mess on your lips. He’d shifted from the pool to standing behind the grill to waiting behind the snack table in a poor effort to conceal the raging hardness that pressed against his swim trunks each time you let out a satisfied moan, licking up more of your ice cream.

It was torture.

Bucky knew you were off limits; you were best friends with Nat who was dating his bestfriend, Steve. Nat refused to let Bucky go anywhere near you, deeming him nothing more than raging hormones on legs; the number one fuck boy on campus. Not like it was his fault he was so pretty and irresistible.

Your tongue swiped up before your lips nipped at the top of your cone.

Bucky nearly growled to himself, watching the sugary cream get you all messy, making your mouth work overtime with the summer heat.

Nothing would ever look as pretty as you did right now, sticky white cream clinging to your lips, dripping down your neck, flowing between your breasts. Your hand was covered in little streams of deliciousness, a drew stray drops spilling onto your tummy.

Fucking hell.

Not a single part of his mind was thinking about ice cream as he watched the milky liquid trail down your body, barely covered in that skimpy thing you called a bathing suit.

If he had his way with you, he’d clean you up and then get you really messy and sticky with his cu-

“Does anyone have a tissue” You pouted, breaking Bucky away from his thoughts, whining when another drop of sticky sweetness dripped onto your collarbone, trickling down between your chest.

“Here, I have-mmphhh” Sam’s eyes grew wide, his sentence cut off midway with Bucky’s hand slamming his mouth shut, muffling his voice. Bucky grabbed the pile of napkins that sat on the snack table shoving them under a pile of chip bags. Sam snorted when he saw where Bucky’s eyes were focused, throwing his hands up in defeat and walking far, far away.

“You are something else” He shook his head while Bucky bit his lip, his mind still occupied over how good you’d taste right now. There was no way he was going to let you clean yourself up with a lousy tissue paper when he was right there. He quietly slipped away while you scanned the area for something, anything to wipe off the mess but there was nothing in sight.

“Where the hell did they all go” You grumbled to yourself as you walked into the kitchen from the patio, not a single paper towel or napkin in sight. All the dish towels had disappeared, even the kitchen roll had vanished into thin air. You groaned, deciding to wash off in the bathroom, making your way down the hall instead.

You yelped as a hand grabbed you, trapping you against the wall, pretty blue eyes staring down at you.

“Bucky what are you-

“Shhhh” His arms caged you in, chest just ghosting against yours, “You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

“Bucky” You squeaked as he smirked, biting his lip, his eyes flicking from your mouth, down your neck, to your cleavage, following the sweet trail that ran down your tummy.

“Were you lookin’ for something doll?” He whispered while you gave him a tiny nod, your voice caught in your throat. The last thing you wanted was for him to see you like this, with ice cream drops all over you, running around to clean off.

“T-tissue”

“For?” He cocked an eye brow, tilting your chin up with his thumb while you refused to meet his eyes, your face growing hot.

“Clean up the ice cream” Your eyes widened when he shook his head, keeping you in place.

“Don’t think so babydoll, M’gonna clean you up and you’re gonna be a good girl and be keep still for me” His tongue darted out to swipe across the corner of your lips before trailing down to your chin, peppering soft kisses along each drop of cream that touched your skin. You whimpered as he continued down, gently licking between the valley of your breasts, not living a single drop of vanilla behind.

You couldn’t process a single thing happening, blood coursing through your body causing a dull buzz to drown out any other sound other than his devious tongue lapping you up. You squeezed your thighs tightly together, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell how soaked you were, your breath hitching in your throat as he dropped to his knees, his nose nudged against your needy clothed core.

“Jamie” You squeaked out when he looked up at you with his devilish smirk, softly nipping your hip before pressing his fingers between your legs, feeling your dampness soak through.

“Oh sugar, you’re even messier down here” He groaned, pulling your bikini bottoms to the side before tossing your thigh over his shoulder, diving straight into your folds. He didn’t give you a chance to register what was happening, immediately latching onto your clit, alternating between dipping his tongue into you and suckling. “God, you taste so sweet baby, better than all the cream you covered yourself in”

“B-Bucky!” Your head hit the wall, moaning as he dove in again, growling at your hand came down to tug at his short locks. He couldn’t help himself, pulling his cock out, jerking himself to your taste and pretty noises, precum glistening at the head.

“That’s right princess, get my face all messy, want you to soak my cock next” He stood up, hoisting you and wrapping your legs around his waist. He pushed your bathing suit bottoms aside, rubbing the silky head of his cock through your folds before letting it catch against your entrance. He groaned at the feeling your pussy already clenching and throbbing, trying to pull him in already.

“Fuck, Bucky, do-do something” You pleaded, your heels digging into his ass, nails clawing at his back while he started to push into you. You cried out at the stretch, gasping as he started to thrust without giving you any time to adjust.

“You that needy, sweets? Already wanna be pounded like this?” He grunted in your ear, letting out a dark chuckle at the way your walls fluttered around him. “You look fuckin’ beautiful like this petal but I’ll tell you what I wanna see baby, wanna see this gorgeous little face covered in my cream. You know how pretty you looked eating your little treats outside? Making a sticky mess all over yourself like a dumb baby, can’t even keep herself clean? You know how badly I wanted to pull my cock out and jerk my cum onto your face, get you real fuckin’ messy?��

“OH GOD-” You bit down onto his shoulder, tears streaking down your face as he started to fuck you harder, shoving his cock all the way in, barely pulling out, making sure you could feel him in your belly. He grasped onto you harder while one hand trailed between your bodies to play with your clit, rubbing and flicking it till you were sobbing from pleasure.

“You like that huh baby, you fuckin’ love it” He growled, fucking you harder while you cried out, milking his cock as your orgasm ripped through your body. He gritted his teeth, willing himself not to cum, fucking you through your high before the selfish side of him took over.

“M’gonna get what I want, get on your knees petal, suck my cock” He growled, yanking his cock out of you and pushing you to the floor, his leaky tip covered in your mixed arousal. You wrapped your hand around his length, giving him long hard strokes while you pushed the tip between your soft lips, your tongue swirling around in circles. “That’s right, look at you baby, putting that little tongue to good use, knew you’d be so good at sucking dick, knew that innocent mouth would take it so good”

You doubled down, letting your hand alternate between cupping his balls and stroking him, humming contently at the way he got harder, the veins in his cock throbbing on your tongue. Bucky growled, his balls pulling up to his body, abs tensed as you laved at his slit, slobbering all over his length as if his cock in your mouth kept you alive.

“Oh-oh fuck that’s it, m’gonna make you look so pretty baby, cover you up with me. C’mon pretty girl, lemme see how beautiful you’d look with my cream on your face, jerk my cock sweets, that's it-that’s it” His hand came down to grasp at your hair, tipping your head up and pulling you off his cock, his hand guiding you to jerk the head of his cock. You stuck your tongue out, batting your lashes at him while he let out a deep groan, his cock growing stiffer in your hand, a string of pre-cum falling onto your lips.

“M’gonna-fuck-gonna cum baby, gonna cum, you’re gonna look perfect, s’fuckin’perfect with my cream, fuckfuckshit-HNGGG UGHH!!” His warm cum shot onto your face in ropes, white cream covering your cheeks, nose, chin and lips. You gasped as more dripped out, while needy whined slipped past Bucky’s lips, his hand coming down to squeeze out every drop. “Oh fuck petal, you look pretty, fuck me baby” Bucky bit his lip, letting his softening cock drag across your face, the tip tracing through his cum, getting it all over your face. He let his cock drag through more of his cum, smearing it on your neck, ensuring there wasn’t a dry spot on your face, practically rutting his semi hard length onto your face until he was fully spent.

He pulled you up, licking a fat stripe up along your neck to your cheek, gathering his cum onto his tongue before squeezing your cheeks together, making your lips pout open. He spat into your mouth, groaning at the way you moaned, swallowing his load. You looked at him with doe eyes, tugging his hand when he went to tuck his cock back in, pouting while he chuckled at your needy expression.

“What is it baby” He gave you a smirk, hissing when you squeezed his balls, his cock already twitching again.

“Wan more” You whined, pulling him in for a filthy kiss, letting his tongue into your mouth, your tongues tasting more of each other.

“Don’t worry my pretty petal, gonna fill you up with my cream next”

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wanderingxiao · 7 months

Text

-The Cruel Prince-

NSFW, 18+ only Plz~

Summary: Prince Scaramouche is a ruthless Prince ruling over Inazuma. His engagement to a princess has him upset. You are his servant who he talks to regularly. He invites you to his private chambers one day...

Pairing: Prince! Scaramouche x Servant! Female Reader

Warning: Mean/Nice Scara, power relationship, fluffy cuteness, mean princess she don't got no name, unprotected sex, foul language, mutual masturbation, porn w/ plot, and cream pies hehe.

Word Count: 6.3K (...These are too long. I'll be making some shorter smuts without so much plot!)

Enjoy~

“Hmph, you, servant. Meet me in my personal chambers when you are finished. Do not leave me waiting long.” Splashes of dark lavender pooled from his eyes, his gaze piercing and powerful as he stared intimidatingly in your direction. The flashes of his Royal outfit shining under the chandeliers of the palace. With a swift turn, the prince left the kitchen where you had been cleaning up with the other servants. Low murmurs were exchanged among your co-workers, most in envy, some in fear, and some with pity. Prince Scaramouche of Inazuma truly was someone to be feared among all ranks, Including those of other nations. Just the mention of his name and the sound of thunder struck fear into the souls of even the dead. Now here this terrifying man was, inviting you to his personal chambers.

What could Prince Scaramouche possibly want with someone like you?

As a product of Queen Ei’s corrupt contract with an outcasted mage, Prince Scaramouche was conceived purely from the virgin queen. She needn’t no king by her side, only a son to take over in her steed once he was of age. The prince was a cruel man. He was merciless to those who deceive him. Unforgiving to those who do not yield under the frigid gaze his familiar lavender eyes cast. And spiteful to the trespassers and criminals that threaten to tarnish the reputation his name held. The fluidity of his tongue was similar to the way he held the sharpened blade adorning his hip, precise and always going for the kill. The frostiness of his dark lavender eyes was enough to scare the strongest men in any kingdom to bow to his feet. The prince truly is a cruel man.

But he can kind.

In fact, your first meeting with Prince Scaramouche was somewhat pleasant. After dusting the library, you had a bit of free time before your next task and chose to enjoy reading a novel. Being too engrossed in your book, you failed to notice the prince entering the room. His harsh tongue broke you from your intense concentration, standing up to bow to him with an apology quick on your lips. He was silent for a moment before he asked what you were reading. You briefly explained a vague summary of the book and the prince gave only a hum of acknowledgment. He didn’t disturb you more and simply left off into the library to retrieve a book of his own. A week later, you identified his lonely figure sitting at a cushioned royal blue sofa reading the book you had been reading. Thus, starting your complex relationship with Prince Scaramouche. Meeting in the library every two days to quietly discuss literature over tea.

Going to his personal chambers… was new.

Once you finished with your task, you made your way down the quiet hallways towards Prince Scaramouche’s private chambers. The sound of your own footsteps echoed in the stillness of the halls, almost identical to the sound of the thunder that often reined in the quiet and gloomy kingdom of Inazuma. The large mahogany doors of the prince’s private chambers came into your view, the smooth oak fragrance swimming through your nostrils, making you remember just how wealthy and powerful the prince was. Muffled voices came from the other side of the wooden doors, and you debated whether you should leave and come back at a different time. Reflecting over the prince’s words, you gave three firm knocks on the door, silencing the voices on the other end until one spoke loudly and sternly.

“Enter.” After an approval was voiced, you carefully entered the room and laid eyes on Prince Scaramouche and his fiancé. The cold look in his eyes never left, even for the woman whom he was betrothed to. The princess was already looking at you when you entered, a disgusted and envious look in her eyes. “What is this servant doing here in your room, Scaramouche? You knew I was coming today yet you still invite someone to your room to bother us?!” The prince paid no mind to the princess’s obnoxious question and beckoned you with his index finger. With quiet and careful steps, you made your way to the prince, standing in front of his desk looking down at him. “(Y/N).” Your eyes widened upon the use of your name. In the palace —at least in Inazuma—royals were not supposed to speak or even know their servants’ names. It was deemed unnecessary and a bit too close for blue-blood liking. Getting close to a servant was strictly forbidden, so you never told him your name even when he requested it of you. “Escort the princess out.”

“What?! But we’re supposed to be planning our wedding! You can’t throw me out! I won’t leave!” The princess sat down on one of his purple cushioned seats accented by a midnight threading. The prince merely looked at her and back to you, his eyes sharply narrowing as if to tell you to obey him. With a deep breath you politely spoke to the princess, “Please, princess. The prince has requested you-“ The princess stood making you stop your sentence as you believed she was going to leave. Her body turned towards you, her expensive heels clicking along the wooden floors of the prince’s private chambers until she was on you. In a blur, her hand rose and left a nasty red imprint on your cheek. Your legs felt shaky and the sting from her slap made tears water into your eyes. “Don’t ever speak to me so carelessly like that again, servant! I will be your queen! You treat me with respect! Do not let this happen again! I will return later to discuss our planning!”

The princess left, leaving you alone with Prince Scaramouche. The silence was utterly deafening. His dark lavender eyes were focused on your cheek, studying the rising redness that stained your perfect skin. A slender gloved finger rose and instructed you to come to his side. Your steps were shaky towards him, the thumping of your own heart loud in your ears the closer to got to him. You stood by his chair; gaze set down to him relaxing in his expertly crafted chair. The moment your eyes met you could feel how intense and threatening his gaze really was. Dark lashes fluttered against his eyes once he spared you a few lucid blinks. Your hands clasped together in front of you, awaiting an order from the prince.

“On your knees.” The command was stern and deep, practically forcing you to your knees beside the arm of his chair. Prince Scaramouche turned his chair to face you, his knees so close to your face you thought he was accidentally going to kick you in the face. You closed your eyes, lips tightening in a thin line awaiting his words. “…Lift your head.” You did as he instructed, your eyes landing on the smug and prideful expression that plastered itself onto his pale features. A cruel and teasing smile spread onto his lips, obviously pleased by your unwavering obedience. “Do you know why I’ve asked you to come?” Your head shook honestly, any sense of words dying in your throat as you struggled to maintain eye contact with him. A low chuckle slipped from his throat, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Truly pathetic you are…”

“F…Forgive me, Prince…” His midnight gloved hands gripped your chin causing red to blossom over both your cheeks. The smoothness of his thumb rose to glide over your lips, his eyes now focused on the plush softness of your lips. Once he realized he was staring a bit too longingly at your lips, he scoffed and let your chin go, now running his fingers along the handprint swollen into your cheek. “Such a good girl. You always listen so well. I’ll make sure her actions do not go unpunished as your reward.” Your eyes widened slightly at his praise and promise. Your lips parted only to have his finger press lightly against your lips. “Keep those pretty lips shut and listen.” You remained quiet, the heat of your cheeks only increasing due to the closeness of his touch. He retracted his hand and sighed out in frustration. “That wretch needs to go back to her own kingdom and stop interfering in my personal affairs so much. It’s damn annoying that I can’t get a moment to breath without her head weaseling its way so far up my ass I can’t even shit her out if I tried.”

A small giggle left your mouth, humored by his foul language and use of words. He paused to listen to your laughter, his face lighting up in surprise and bewilderment at such a sound. You lowered your head quickly muttering an apology. This only amused him more. “Hah! Am I truly that scary or are you this weak?” With a slightly flustered expression, you bit your lip and looked up to him again, shaking your head in response. The look that graced his dark lavender eyes told you that he wanted you to speak. He needed to hear it. “I…I’m not scared of you, Prince Scaramouche. You’ve always… been kind to me, even at our meetings in the library to discuss books. You’ve never shown true malice towards me. I only worry of disappointing you, Prince.”

It was evident from the look on his face that he was greatly pleased by your answer. “Hmm. A fine answer. That deserves a little reward don’t you think?” A sly smile spread across his lips, his teeth peaking from the plushness of his pale pink lips. Your face began to flush pink again, watching helplessly as his face leaned closer to yours. “How about a kiss? I think that sounds like a lovely reward.” Your heart hammered harder against your chest; your eyes wide as the prince tilted his head towards your lips. Nothing could stop him from doing as he pleased with you. You closed your eyes tightly, waiting for the impact of his lips against yours. A low chuckle came beside your ear, making you flinch. “Haha, you should see the look in your face. Did you actually think I was going to kiss you?”

“A-Ah?! W-Wait no… I-I’m so sorr—Mmph!” A hungry pressure was applied onto your lips, silencing your pitiful apology to the powerful prince. His tongue forced your lips apart, sliding over your teeth and gums with a predatory dominance. Your hands gripped the frilled fabric of your servant’s dress, eyes screwed tightly shut as you shook in his forceful lip-lock. Your mouth weakly fell apart for him, letting his tongue invade your mouth to claim you as his own. His gloved hand slid through your hair, lightly tugging your head back to push his tongue deeper. Your body was beginning to get hot, a soft sigh of embarrassed pleasure leaving your mouth into his. His lips curled against yours, letting you feel the way his expression morphed. He pulled away from you, his tongue slowly leaving yours to let your eyes see the thick string of saliva that connected your tongues. With a flick of his tongue the string snapped, his perverted tongue gliding over his upper lip. “You taste intoxicating. You sure you’re not trying to poison me or something?”

You couldn’t speak. Any words that tried to escape your lips couldn’t from the sheer shock of everything that was happening. All you could do was gaze up at him in awe. A slight sneer rose to his expression before he turned away with a dismissive pat and ruffle of your hair. “Your initial purpose for being here is no longer important. That’ll be all. You’re dismissed.” You blinked and swallowed thickly, shakily standing and bowing to him. Your face was purely red, utterly embarrassed and flustered by the events that transpired. The intensity of his gaze weighing in on the back of your head was truly terrifying. It felt as if he was sizing you up, studying your body and your physique to find your weak spot so that he can effectively pounce and devour you.

He was hunting you.

It wouldn’t be long before he would strike again.

Mindless chatter drummed against your ears as you quietly sat in the dining hall eating your dinner. Other servants surrounded you, eating their fills of the cooks’ tireless efforts. The prince and the princess had finally set a date for their wedding, which would also be the prince's coronation. You could tell by the way he carried himself lately that he was far from being please about this. The princess couldn’t have been more ecstatic. Her eyes sparkled roaming the halls of the palace, trying to make sense of all the turns and paths to get to where she needed to go the most. The servants attempted to avoid the princess due to her ludicrous and outright psychotic requests —mostly having to deal with Prince Scaramouche. Her goals were truly sinful, and the request of you and some other female servants was all the proof of that.

She wanted to be intimate with the prince.

Your mind drifted back to the day he kissed you. After Prince Scaramouche had sealed his lips on yours in a heated kiss, you tried to avoid him as much as you could, but he always found a way to get you. He always threw sly and underhanded comments about you trying to avoid him or being too flustered to face him. His mouth never quit running. His fingers began to linger more on your hands when you handed him a book, his eyes following your lips and letting them lower shamelessly to stare at your chest. His scent clogged your nose, his aura dazed your mind, and his voice was like constant music to your ears, hypnotizing you to think of him and him only. It was as if he had been with you all day and all night. Even when he isn’t around it always felt like his presence was somewhere close by.

It was obvious.

You were starting to fall in love with him.

A loud bang interrupted you from your thoughts. The door to the dining hall burst open, involuntarily welcoming the prince to the servants only area of freedom from work. His eyes connected with yours immediately, heated, and intense eyes glaring coldly at you. “Come to my chambers. Now!” His voice was booming and full of distaste, it was a contrast to what he had been showing you the past few weeks. The seductive and flirtatious tone he used with you was gone in this moment. Nothing but pure rage and detest radiating from his rather short frame. You rose slowly, the eyes of all the other servants following you as you walked towards him. Low murmurs were exchanged, making your expression sour which the prince took notice of quickly. “Silence! You dare to speak so casually and rudely in my presence? I should have all your heads!”

The room fell eerily silent, the only thing being heard was your quiet footsteps towards the prince. His eyes trained on you, lips forming a straight line as he had to compose himself before he started dragging you away by force. Once you were in front of the prince he turned swiftly and walked out with haste, expecting you to follow closely. You matched his stride, following behind not making a peep since it was crystal clear that the prince was in a terrible mood. The familiar narrows and curves of the hallway alerted you to where he was leading you. The intimidating thumps of his boots sounded like the raging thunder that rocked the land and haunted the dreams of children. It felt as if you were caught in the middle of a terrible storm that showed no mercy with merciless winds and crackling thunder.

The prince swung the door open, grabbing your wrist and pulling you in with a harsh tug. A surprised gasp flew from your lips, not expecting the sudden impact when your back hit the dark wood of his door. The lock slid into place with a click as the prince’s gloved hands twisted the lock. He was quick in his movements, lips locking with yours in a passionate kiss. The leather of his gloves slid along your wrists, slowly pushing your hands up above your head until he held them there with one hand, trailing the other back down your arm to your face. A soft sigh left your mouth, your body instantly becoming weak at the prince’s dominant touch. He pulled away slowly, dark lavender eyes gazing into yours intently while his thumb grazed your cheek softly.

“You belong to me now. I’m tired of all this bullshit. I’m no longer going to abide by their rules. Submit to me.” He muttered against your lips, his eyes staring into yours intently. Both of your hands were held by your wrists in one of his strong slender hands. A confused look spread over your face, lightly panting against his lips as he continued to press his body against yours. “W-Wait Prince Scaramouche… M-May I speak?” The prince froze hearing your hesitance to his actions. The dejected look crossing his eyes made you shiver since he was beginning to become upset. He slowly let go of your wrists, stepping away from you with a bit of reluctance. You made a shy step forward, clearing your throat and adjusting your clothes. The prince clearly didn’t like this. “P-Prince Scaramouche… may I ask what happened to have you advancing on me all of a sudden? We… we kissed before once but… y-you’re a Royal, and you’re engaged to the princess, your wedding is-“

“I don’t give two shits about status or that wretch.” His words were cold and harsh, practically spitting them out at you as if they were poison on his tongue. The fury in his eyes was evident, annoyance raising to his lips in a bitter sneer. “I am only with her due to my mother forcing a marriage to me. I would rather have you, than her. Haha! You’re the only one who isn’t so scared of me that you’ll actually have a normal conversation with me. Does your small brain not comprehend how lonely I must be? How your less annoying presence satiates this emptiness in my chest? How your kind words melt my heart? How you treat me like a human being?” A sorrowful frown curved onto his lips, his eyes softening in the slightest when he made another step towards you. The dazzling shines of his medals in the dim lighting reminded you again of who exactly was in front of you, admitting he wanted to be with you instead of the beautiful princess. “B-But-“

“Hah, enough with the back talk. I’ve already admitted that I wish to have you regardless of the situation. It’s a matter of accepting or rejecting me. What is it you want, (Y/N)? If you aren’t a coward against royalty… then accept me. I can see it in your eyes you wish to have me too.” There was no denying that yes, you did want Prince Scaramouche. He held such power, respect, and most of all, he held a soft tenderness to you. The way his expression softens and relaxes when you’re in the library with him, asking childish and innocent questions he wishes to know. Those who get close to know the prince and genuinely care will know that of his caring and curious nature. None had ever gotten to experience this. You were the first one to ever want to know the prince, and here he was, rewarding you for your kindness, your patience, and your bravery for standing in the face of a furious thunderstorm, appreciating its cool rapid winds and loud thunder. Through masked words of rudeness to shield his soul, his actions revealed what lies in his heart. “Spit it out already, I’m losing patience.”

You didn’t respond verbally to him, you only gazed at him with the gentle tenderness that lovers would exchange. Your bare hands rose slowly, letting your fingertips slide over his unblemished pale features. His skin was cool to the touch yet soft as if it had never been touched or seen by that of battle or labor. The long lashes surrounding his dark lavender eyes fluttered under your gentleness, his gloved hands coming to rest against the back of one of your own hands. Your lips grew closer to his, brushing them softly against one another before you sealed your answer with a loving kiss. The prince moved his hands along your arm, slowly coming down to settle against your waist, pulling you closer towards him in attempt to practically become one with you. His touch was desperate, hungry, and oh so feverishly nervous. Truly sinful for someone of his status.

“Fuck…” A faint curse came from his soft pale pink lips, the color of his cheeks rising to a gorgeous rosy red. His hands came down your slowly, inching his way closer and closer to your bottom. Anxious pants left your lungs as you waited for him to firmly grab you and continue. His strong hands gripped against the plushness of your ass, groping, and kneading the curvy flesh. A low groan erupted from his chest, bringing his hand down to pull your leg up against his hip. “You’re so beautiful…” The prince’s generous praise serenaded your body to croon into him, your mind turning to mush at the simple melody of his affections. Sparks of dark lavender glimmered within his eyes; the darkness of his pupils blown out in pure desire. His sinful tongue slipped past the guard of his thin lips to slide along your neck slowly before his teeth met your skin in a mix of passion and lust. “P-Prince-“

“Call my name.” His lips vibrated against your flesh, his hot breath fanning against your skin threatening to leave passionate burns of his affections. A pathetic whimper sounded from your throat, your tongue testing the waters of how well his name rolled off. “S-Scaramouche…” A heated sigh leaves the royal’s lips, his body moving forward to hold you against the wall. His teeth grazed your neck hungrily, his tongue marked you possessive, and his lips caressed your heart to encourage you to yearn for him more. “Such a good girl. Always so good to me.” Both of his hands slapped against your butt and pulled you up to hold your legs around his waist, carrying you back to his bedroom. The harsh kick of his boots made the door swing open, in an instant your back was against the bed with the prince on you in mere seconds. “Tell me what you want. Tell your Prince what to do to your lewd body.”

“S-Scaramouche… I…” The words caught in your throat as you tried to think of a way to voice your desires to the Prince of Inzauma. Your flustered appearance only spurred the prince to touch you further. His slender fingers, still encased by the smoothness of his ebony gloves, glided up the skirt of your servant’s attire. The tenderness of his touch against your thighs turned desperate quick when he started to ascend higher, getting dangerously close to your shamefully wet cunt. “Use your words, darling.” The sweetness in his tone as he cooed that sensational nickname to you was enough to let your mind finally accept what was going to happen. You looked up to him, newfound confidence, and desire in your eyes. Of course, he noticed immediately with a satisfied smile, his tongue coming to lick his lips seductively. “Please, Scaramouche… touch me more.”

“Hah, fuck…!” His lips crashed down on yours again, his hands making quick work go grab your thighs and part them, placing himself between them. The heat of his body scorched yours, a light sweat coating your forehead as his touches got all the more sinful. His tongue flicked and swirled against your own before he grabbed your jaw and pulled away from your lips, forcing you to keep your mouth open. Without so much as a breath, he spat in your mouth, sending a shiver down your spine as his spit mushed around on your tongue. “Swallow it.” His tone was no longer sweet and loving, it was demanding, lustful, seductive, and oh so lewd. You did as he instructed, swallowing his spit with a flustered squirm. The gorgeous shimmer of his canines came to your hazy view, his teeth snatching the leather on the tip of his finger and pulling his glove off with his teeth. God his hands were just absolutely gorgeous. “Good girl. You still want more, right?”

You nod anxiously. A dark chuckle rumbled his chest, his gloves discarded to now feverishly unbutton the front of your shirt. “Good answer. Now sit back… and let your divine Prince take care of you.” His fingers brushed over your skin when he pushed your shirt open, dark lavender irises landing on the raggedy white bra you wore. While he was enjoying the delicious view, his lips turned downwards into scowl at the condition of your undergarment. “Tsk, we’ll have to change this if you are to become my woman. I’ll make sure you’re dressed in the most exquisite lingerie mora can buy.” A soft moan echoed into his ears once his hands made contact with your breasts, smooth hands kneading your tender mounds. The pads of his fingers teased your flesh, lightly dipping into the front of your bra and sliding his hand down to pinch your nipple. “Hmm! P-Prince Scaramouche…!”

The uncomfortable push of your shambled bra from his fingers was nothing compared to the bliss you experienced under his hot touch. “Have you ever been touched like this before?” It was clear from the look in his eyes that he was searching for a particular answer. He begged you to say no, begged that he was the only man that’s ever touched you. It was possessive, jealous, and pitiful the way he gnawed at his lower lip waiting for your answer. “Mmph, no you’re, hah, t-the first Scaramouche.” His irksome scowl twisted into a cocky grin, the heaviness of his eyelids coming down to hold his vision. He was now solely focused on making you feel the best. “Good. Then let my touch be carved into that dumb brain of yours. Moan till your hearts content, darling.”

His fingers pulled away slowly, his hands coming to push your bra up and over your head instead of unclipping it. This action made you realize that the brave and often times egotistical prince was also inexperienced. You would’ve never guessed due to his personality. Every act he did he did with the utmost confidence as if he’d rehearsed every scenario imaginable. The cloudy gaze he set on your chest was intense, his pupils blown out in pure lustful devotion to your body. Every swell and curve of your breasts had him mesmerized. The cute little erection of your nipples, the darker pigmentation of your areolas, and the slight jiggle they had whenever you shifted about. He quickly found himself becoming obsessed with the sight, imagination running wild with all the lewd things he could do. How would they look covered in his cum? Scratch that, maybe some lovely purple hickeys? Nah, what about some red blotchy bite marks?

Fuck, he wants it all!

“S-Scaramouche?” The sound of your flustered voice broke him from the bewitched state he had suffered when looking at your bare chest. A rosy blush spread over your cheeks; hands shaky at your sides wanting to cover yourself from his unwavering gaze. He let out a small, amused chuckle. “What? Can I not admire your body? I am a prince after all… I should be able to admire my things when I please.” His lips descended, landing on your collar bone only to cascade down to give wet kisses along the swells of your chest. His tongue came around your areola, flicking up to nudge your erected nipples. “Hmm!” You flinched upon the sudden action, lips coming up set in a firm line while your eyebrows scrunched in silenced pleasure. He repeated this action, earning another small flinch accompanied by a hushed whimper. “You’re so cute when you try to hide your voice from me. We’ll see how long you can keep that up.”

The prince moved his bare hands along the sides of your waist, catching under your skirt and pulling the frilled fabric down to expose the lace of your panties. The pads of his elegantly slender fingers glided easily over your skin, giving your legs chilly goosebumps at his touch. His index and middle finger slid from your skin to the sensational folds of your clothed cunt, rubbing slowly to ease his way between them. “Heh, look how wet you are… that’s incredibly lewd of you, (Y/N).” The grin on his face widened once he saw your face contort in quivering ecstasy as his fingertips teased at your folds. His middle finger found your puffy clit, rubbing back and forth slowly. Your back arched with a gasp at the sudden action, limbs twitching while your lip found its way between your teeth. “Ah, ah, don’t you dare try to hold back those pretty moans. Let everyone hear you. Let them know how well I pleasure you, princess.”

The prince relished in the way your body squirmed underneath him. It was always something he unconsciously loved. Dominating others and controlling every aspect over them. Discomfort boiled within the prince’s groin, his cock twitching feeling his fingertips becoming damp with your slick that was overflowing from your lovely cunt. He quickly withdrew one of his hands from your body, hastily unbuckling his pants to relieve the strain against his hard cock. “What do you want, darling? Tell your master what you fucking want!” His fingers encased your clit, rolling the bundle of nerves between his fingertips until your back was arching, head throwing back into the exquisite silk of the prince’s bed. “Scaramouche! P-Please… I-I can’t-! Want-! Ngh… I want more!” A cocky smirk plastered across the thin pale lips of the prince, his fingers now hooking on the side of your panties to pull them aside and slide his fingers up and down your wet folds. “Tsk, Tsk, not good enough. Be more specific.” Heavy lustful breaths poured from your mouth, your throat already dry and your heart beginning to hammer against your chest. “F-Fingers, hah, inside please…”

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, I’ll indulge you for our first time… don’t expect the same treatment in the future now, darling.” With a sensationally fluid movement, the prince’s fingers embedded themselves into your warm cunt, walls fluttered tight at the sudden intrusion. A flustered and surprised gasp spewed from your lips, thighs shaking slightly at the god-like structure of his fingers. With his other hand, he grabbed your hand and guided it to rest against the tight bulge against his undergarments, his heavy arousal. A relieved sigh escaped from his lungs, groaning deeply at the contact against his cock. “Rub it if you want more. Hurry.” Desperation was laced within his hushed tone, hips bucking lightly into your hand to feel the electrifying friction of your hand on his erection. “C’mon, baby… fucking rub it.”

With a shy blush, you started to move your hand loosely around his cock, earning a low groan at the feathery touch. A satisfied grin spread onto his swollen pale lips feeling your cunt squeeze on his fingers. “What? You like jerking me off, darling? That’s… hah, incredibly lewd of you, fuck.” Scaramouche leaned over you, jaw clenched when your fingers kept loosely brushing over his tip over and over again. His fingers hooked inside of you, thrusting them deep causing your grip to tighten in surprise on his cock. You both moaned in unison, enjoying each other’s sinful touch. The prince bucked his hips into your hand, matching indigo brows furrowing at the lovely warmth around his twitching arousal. “Such a good girl. Always so, hah, obedient for me even like this.”

“S-Scaramouche... hmm.” His fingers eagerly fucked your dripping cunt with purpose. His eyes were trained on your sinful expressions, fingers spreading to stretch out your walls. The friction of your fingers against his tip caused him to hunch over at a rapid approach to his release. “Stop.” Your hand immediately retracted upon hearing his order, worried you possibly hurt him or did something to cause him pain. Scaramouche pulled his fingers from you, not missing the small whimper that vibrated your throat as emptiness was all you were left with. Seeing such a worried expression, the prince laughed and kissed your forehead before bringing his fingers to his lips. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m just… too eager to have you right now.” A dark look of lust covered his eyes, devilish tongue coming to flick over his fingers and taste your juices. The flustered expression on your face was rewarding. Once his fingers were clean, he shrugged off his clothes, letting your eyes wander around the physique of the prince's slender tone body until your eyes trained on his erection before embarrassingly looking back into his dark lavender eyes. “Heh, think you can handle it?”

An audible gulp echoed from your throat.

“Y-Yes…” A small snicker came from the flashy Prince. He guided his hands along your thighs, spreading them wide open to your embarrassment. Scaramouche licked his lips at the view of you beneath him, cheeks faintly pink, drunk off the feeling of lust and your beautiful features. You belonged there. In his arms underneath him, obediently letting him do as he pleased. His one and only princess forever. “Oh? Yeah? Well…” Something wet and firm rubbed over your entrance, making your eyes snap down to identify what it was even though you knew what it was. A grin spread over his face and with one fluid movement, his cock was sheathed snuggly inside your warm and inviting cunt. A low groan ripped from his chest, sighing loudly in relief and pleasure at the blissful feeling. “Let’s see if you can keep up, darling.”

It hurt at first, his cock stretching your walls past their usual limits. Your face scrunched in pain, your lungs clawing for air as the sudden invasion left you breathless and panting. Scaramouche’s hips rutted into yours slow and firm, heavy balls slapping against the plush of your ass while his fingers dug bruises into your waist. “Shh, just… hah, bear with it for a bit.” After a few shallow thrusts, your walls got used to the feeling of being stretch and the pain twisted and melted into sinful pleasure. A soft moan was all Scaramouche needed to know you were feeling good. His hips began to buck harsher into yours. With grit teeth and furrowed brows, he growled out lowly. “You’re so fucking tight. Hah, shit.”

“Hmm, Scaramouche, hah, it’s so… deep, hngh!” Your head threw back into the expensive sheets of the prince’s bed. Your hands darted up to his toned shoulders, clutching onto him for dear life as his cock drilled deeper. The mushy head of his erection kissed against your cervix, making stars appear in your vision. Nothing had ever felt this good before, it was addicting, like a drug that once you start you could never stop. Scaramouche was too good. “Shit, shit… Agh…!” Strands of soft indigo rested against your sweaty forehead, warm breath fanning repeatedly over your face as the prince got closer to your face panting. Your lashes fluttered, black overtaking your vision as you solely focused on the pace of his hips and the swollen plush of his lips against yours. His pace became harsher and quicker, forcing loud and unabashed moans to flow into his mouth to swallow for him and him only. “You feeling good, darling? Hah, tell me how fucking good it feels, ngh.”

“It feels so -hah!- so good Scaramouche! So good! T-Too… much, ahh!” An unfamiliar feeling began to build in your abdomen, it was tight and hot. Your fingers dug into the unmarked flesh of his shoulders, embarrassed eyes slowly opening to look up at the prince. His eyes connected with yours instantly, a storm of indigo and deep lavender swirled within his irises, threatening to destroy your whole being with his overwhelming lust and affection. It was such a turn on to make eye contact with him while he was massaging your velvety insides with his thick cock. He leaned down and sealed your lips with his own once more, his pace faltering and a groan reverberating onto your lips as his orgasm grew closer and closer. “Shit, I’m gonna cum… Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming! Gah, damnit!”

“Scaramouche wait-! Ahh! Wait, wait- Mmm!!” Your toes curled and your back arched off the bed, a cry of your new lover’s name leaving your swollen abused lips. A creamy ring surrounded his cock, your juices making lewd squelching noises as his cock slid in and out of you so nicely. With an increasingly sloppy pace, the prince stilled on top of you, his body trembling slightly before letting out a flurry of pleasured curses. A warm gush flooded your insides, and you could feel the tip of his cock twitching wildly as his cum sputtered into your core. A shiver ran down your spine feeling so full inside, all of it was just so… blissful and overwhelming. You both sat there trying to catch your breath until Scaramouche's voice cut through the air. “(Y/N).” His voice was low and heaving as he called out to you. Your eyes could barely stay open anymore with how tired your love making had been. “Yes, Prin- Scaramouche…?”

“…You’ll be my Queen, won’t you?” With a loving smile, you leaned up gently and kiss his warm cheek. “Of course, without a doubt.” The prince snorted and flicked your forehead. “Good. Not as if I would let you say no to begin with.”

The prince was a cruel and selfish man, but he was also kind.

"Time for me to go out and find the truth. So long, suckers!"

-Scaramouche

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