#women wearing the clothes that have been in the corner of their room on the floor and later realise when they're out it's got marks all ove | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luv4berry · 10 months

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Can you pls make one abt miles and yn getting into a very heated argument and she slaps him for saying smth outrageous and then she leaves and he climbs into her window after a few hours and tries to work it out with her

anything for you.

earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you go over to miles practically drenched in another man's cologne, and he jumps to conclusions all too quickly.

GENRE: fluff to angst to fluff.

WARNINGS: bickering/arguing, physical contact made by reader, jealous miles, cursing, kissing/making out, suggestive (?) miles calling women females (this needs a trigger warning in itself), CORNYYY

AUTHORS NOTE: yo why this tumblr shit lowkey fun? + this is my first request agagaa thank you!! omg and i hit 200?? and my eyes only is almost at 2k notes wtf r y’all onnnn?? anyways thank you for requesting! i didn’t make miles say anything too outrageous just so he could redeem himself later on, hope you like it!

“you look so good,” your boyfriend says for what seems like the 100th time today, his large hands immediately dropping to your bare waist, fidgeting with your waist beads as he leans in to mold your lips, a smile gracing his face when you return his affection.

“all mine.” he mutters as he intensifies the kiss, his hands approaching the waist band of his boxers that you’ve claimed as your own. when he lifts your feet off the ground, the heels of your feet lock around his back, a giggle escaping your lips when he lays you down on his bed. you pull away from him, laying the palms of your hands on his chest to keep him away when he pursues your lips once more.

“miles, we can’t make out all day.” you giggle, running your manicured fingers down his chest.

“says who?” he buries his head in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, leaving wet kisses along the space when he suddenly pauses.

he removes his head from the crevice, sitting up to which you follow.

“baby,” you hum in acknowledgement, “where’d you go today?” he questions you, a hint of an indistinguishable emotion in his voice.

“just here, why?” you question him, running your nails up and down his neck. a look of confusion immediately sweeps over your features when he calmly removes your hand from his body.

“cause you smell like somebody been rubbing all up on you.” he looks you up and down, leaning in to now smell your clothes, hair, neck, anything within the perimeter really.

he pulls back, “who were you with?” his expression solidified.

“nobody, i swear i don’t know why i smell.” you reason with him, genuinely confused as well.

“oh? so the smell just magically took over your hair and your clothes?”

he completely gets up from his position next to you, hovering over you. “y/n, i know im not tripping, who the hell was rubbing up on you and why’s the smell so strong? that’s what we doin’ now? and then you got the audacity to bring your ass over to my house, lay in my bed, and wear my clothes.”

“what are you implying?” you scowl at him, now rising to your own feet.

“im implying that you forreal out here fucking on other dudes when you got a whole ass boyfriend.”

the next few moments go by swiftly and mindlessly, but the scorching sensation left in the palm of your left hand enables you to process what just happened almost immediately; you slapped him. though, not an ounce of regret filled your tank of emotions, adrenaline being the only identifiable one.

“i don’t know who the hell you’re talking to but it can’t be me, how dare you?” you glare at him, the imprint of your palm already making its mark on his face, the surrounding skin blemishing. “when have i ever done something like that to you?”

“today, apparently.” he mumbles under his breath, caressing the skin of his cheek to soothe the discomfort.

you look at him like he’s just grown 3 heads before silently walking over to the corner of his room, pulling his graphic tee over your shoulders. you immediately lunge it at him, same with his boxers, bracelets, his necklace, anything of his that is currently making contact with you. you zip up your navy blue hoodie, slipping your sweatpants over your bare legs.

you bring your tote bag over your shoulder, making your way towards his window which he currently guards, glaring at you from where you stand.

“miles, get the hell out my way before i pop you in your mouth next.”

“i want his name and address, you not going anywhere till i get an answer.”

you flail your arms in his face, “are you deaf or just stupid? there is no “him” because the only person i been rubbing up on is you!”

“baby, i don’t smell like no cheap ass cologne.”

“don’t call me that, move!” you raise your voice, stepping up to him.

“what’s his name?”

“you’re crazy.” you scoff, instead bolting for the front door. you’re mindful of mama rio cooking in the kitchen, slipping past quietly as to not raise any suspicion. though, you do bid her a quiet farewell, yet even when you slip out the front door with a smile on your face she knows something isn’t right by the way miles isn’t trailing behind you.

“miles, qué pasó?” she calls out from the kitchen, wiping her hands down her apron and subtly knocking on her sons door before entering.

“it’s nothing.” he calls back, digging his cheek into his pillow to prevent his mother from spotting the blossoming blemish. he didn’t want to explain how he got you so worked up that you slapped him to his mother, or anyone for that matter.

“it’s nothing? invite her over for dinner tonight.” rio arches her brow, taking a seat next to her son on the bed.

“we aren’t on good terms right now.” he sighs out, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

“even more of a reason to invite her over, right?” rio says, making her way out of his bedroom before miles could come up with a rebuttal.

he lazily grabs his phone when it pings, though when he realizes the message is from you, he throws it on the floor until the phone pings with a second message. he groans loudly swiping open your messages.

one attachment

next time don’t make stupid assumptions you dick

the photo captioned was of a half empty cologne bottle you had probably found somewhere in your home, miles heart immediately dropping to his stomach.

okay, maybe he fucked up a teensy tiny bit.

when you got home, you racked your brain for a possible explanation as to why you smelled like anything other than your boyfriend. you were stumped till your brother had walked past you, the aroma that had gotten miles so worked up earlier clouding your senses immediately.

you lay on the pad of your tummy on your king sized bed, your irritable mood causing a burning sensation to spread throughout your body. though it may not be displayed through your face, you were absolutely livid. after all you’ve done for him, this is what you got in return, his unprecedented allegations.

sure it was reasonable to be suspicious, but to outright accuse you? you’ve never given him any reason not to trust you, reassuring him whenever he needed it. had your words not been enough? what about your gestures? what about the times you’d cuddle up with him in bed, sleepily muttering words like “im yours,” or “i belong to you, miles.” had that not been enough?

your jittering thoughts are interrupted by a newfound presence in the corner of your room, the peripherals of your eye capturing those twin braids that you adore so much.

“nuh uh, get the hell up outta here.” you sit up, pointing back towards the window.

“deadass?” he raises both brows, staring at you dead in the eyes.

“deadass.” you return the gesture.

“nah.” he climbs into bed with you, settling his arm over your waist.

“im being serious miles, get out. don’t touch me either.” you pick up his arm as if it’s diseased, laying it over his stomach.

“you don’t like it when i touch on you?” he says in a sultry voice, and you roll your eyes.

“ma, listen to me,” he grabs your chin meeting you at eye level, your brows still furrowed out of anger. when your eyes meet his, any foreign sense of anger evaporates from your system, turning to putty in his hands, no matter how much you tried to fight it.

“you’re so pretty baby,” he kisses your downturned lips once.

“why you look so mad?” he ignorantly questions you, kissing your lips once more.

“baby smile for me?” he squishes your cheeks, yet he’s still met with silence till you finally part your lips.

“this isn’t helping your case by the way.” you roll your eyes at his obvious attempts to bribe you.

“alright, what if i came to you smelling like some other female? you wouldn’t like that huh?” he attempts to reason with you.

“i came to you smelling like my brother? and even then if you came to me smelling like some girl i would conduct a thorough investigation first.” you side eye him.

“how was i supposed to know it was your brother? i didn’t even know he was back.”

“he got back this morning, i gave him a hug and he must’ve rubbed off on me.”

“you didn’t tell me all that. so what i gotta do for you to believe im sorry, hm?” he climbs on top of you, following your darting eyes with his own.

“buy me a pandora bracelet.” you joke.

he perks up, “on god? baby i buy you jordans every other day, the hell is a bracelet?”

“i mean i was joking but you serious?”

“you didn’t know that i’d do anything for you?”

“you’re corny boooo, leave me alone.” you push his head away from yours, your facade breaking when a smile plays at your lips.

“y/n?”

“hm?”

“why do you hit so hard?”

“what do you mean?” you ask him, your outburst from earlier had completely left your mind. he turns to the side, and your eyes widen as they lay upon the imprint of your hand slowly fading,

“oh shit,” you wince, inspecting the damage of your earlier actions.

you throw the blanket off your legs, sitting on your knees to inspect further. you silently grab his hand, heading towards your bathroom as you slowly feel guilt begin to stir inside you.

“stay here.” he watches as you disappear into the hallway, coming back with a frozen pack of peas. you hold it up to his cheek for him, fiddling with the ends of his braids as you repeatedly check for signs of the bruising going away.

“im sorry miles, i shouldn’t have hit you.”

he hums in acknowledgment of your apology, parting his lips to speak. “it’s okay, i like them aggressive.”

a smile threatens your lips, your hand going up to cover your mouth to keep your false facade up.

“nah why you keep smiling?” he grabs your wrist, pulling your hand down to stare at you intently.

“stop that.” you attempt to straighten out your face.

it’s silent for the next few moments as you adjust the frozen peas seeing that the bruise had almost completely faded.

“y/n, you know im being forreal when i say i’d do anything for you, right?”

“yeah, i know.”

love, berry.

#miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv miles #atsv x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales

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jiminscockr1ng · 2 months

Text

✩｡°𝄞📹 COVERGIRL 𝄞°✨｡✩

╝ one-shot ╔

╰₊ 𓂂➢ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

╰₊ 𓂂➢ genre: idol x model au, smut

╰₊ 𓂂➢ warn!ngs: unprotected sex, cumming inside, back shots, orgasm denial (kind of), oral !female receiving, slight pain (in beginning), big dick!jungkook, (let me know if there’s more please!)

╰₊ 𓂂➢ summary: you are the cover girl for jungkook’s upcoming clothing line, JJK. said man, just can’t keep his eyes off of you as you model his designs.

╰₊ 𓂂➢ word count: 3.7k

You almost break your fucking neck trying to pose in the six inch pumps you have on—

in front of all of these cameras, in front of all of these people, in front of him. But of course, like the boss ass, talented, flawless model you are, you stay on your ten toes. Falling into another pristine pose matter of fact.

The photographers take their photos of you and the staff on the sides of the room doesn’t shy away from shouting praises at you. You slickly slide your hands into the back pockets of the denim miniskirt that barely covered the curve of your round ass. Back facing the camera, as you turned your upper body to eye it.

A large quantity of “ooh’s” and “aah’s” echoes through the brightly lit room once everyone gets a glimpse of your immaculate figure.

Your eyes couldn’t help but fall on the built individual standing low-key in the corner. He’s been eying you for the past half hour since you stepped out of the dressing room with this outfit. Truth be told, this man has been staring you down since you took his place in front of the cameras. He’s only now mentally undressing you. (not that your current outfit left much to the imagination).

You’re sporting a black tie that hangs over the skimpy white laced bra that’s clutched your chest, hanging on for dear life. On your feet are a pair of plain black pumps and of course— the main piece.

That denim miniskirt you’re wearing. ‘JJK’ initials embroidered on the back pockets, the sides are laced together with black ribbon, and it’s just long enough to walk in— short enough to the point you’d be flashing someone if you bent over the slightest bit.

If he could suck his own dick for making such a masterpiece, he would. But Jungkook would much rather you do it instead, because damn… did you look absolutely heaven sent. ‘Second to none,’ he thought as he watched you from the corner of the room.

Jungkook knew that choosing you as the covergirl for his new line was the perfect idea. He fought for it, fought for you. Having a black woman as the cover model of the Jeon Jungkook’s brand new fashion line wasn’t something the board wanted to approve.

Other than the fact you are black, you’re a fairly new up and coming model, leaving you very little experience. Jungkook discovered your instagram account just a few months before he completed his line. At first glance he knew you were something special. Different from all of the slim, long legged, fair skinned Korean women his team had continuously suggested. There was absolutely nothing wrong with those women— at all.

But Jungkook was looking for something else, something new, fresh, something natural. As an idol, he naturally falls into a clean, pure and innocent category. Despite being a grown ass man. Jungkook desperately is clawing to get out of that box. He wanted to prove it and expose the mature side of him through this fashion line. So no, Jungkook didn’t want a put together woman, or a pretty princess, or even a grunge queen. He wanted a natural sex symbol.

The perfectionist that Jungkook is, he never fails to second guess all of his actions and choices. But you, no— he knew that he needed you.

Needed you to wear his designs, needed you to be his covergirl, needed you all up in his face… amongst other things.

To which you were more than excited to do. Like, be serious! It’s Jeon Jungkook. The man with the mouth watering sleeve of tattoos, toe curling wavy mullet, the gut turning physique.

When his team reached out to you, you were more than ecstatic. You wondered how god had seemingly blessed you with the opportunity to model for the a-list idol.

You’re a huge fan of Jungkook’s music, listening to his panty dropping vocals daily. So the fact that you’re actually modeling for him and the fact that he’s currently staring you down like he wants you to be his last meal has you shaking in your six inch pumps. The unwavering tension between the two of you goes unnoticed by the others in the room.

But the way your smooth brown thighs clenches together definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook… neither does the way Jungkook is holding that clip board over his crotch go unnoticed for you.

Shit. You desperately needed for someone to just—

“That’s a wrap!” You hear someone yell and you let out a sigh of relief. Quickly bowing and spreading “thank you’s” to the staff that approached to compliment you.

You make your way back into your dressing room in the back of the studio. First thing you do is take off the tight tie around your neck, then the pumps off of your feet, exhaling in relief when your feet meet the ground.

There’s still an uncomfortable feeling in between the thick of your thighs. Damn, he really got you all worked up… more than you had realized it seems. You slip the soaked laced thong that matches your white laced bra down your legs and it gets flung into the waste bin. Leaving you naked under the famous miniskirt you still have on.

You distract yourself with the gorgeous sight you see in the mirror, then a light knocking hits your door. Before you could even say “come in,” in walks the finest man you have ever laid eyes on… and the reason why your favorite laced thong is in the trash.

“Hey,” he whispers to which you slightly raise a brow. Because yes, he’s fine as hell but at the same time, who told him he could enter? “Sorry for barging in. I didn’t want anyone to see me near your dressing room.” You nod your head understandingly. That would be a nightmare if anyone saw the two of you interacting and decided to go yapping about it.

Which is why this just so happens to be you and Jungkook’s first interaction. How low of you to get turned on before a proper conversation.

“Then again, I couldn’t leave without speaking to you first.” He smiled softly at you, part of his cute bunny toothed smile beamed in your eyes and the butterflies in your stomach start doing flips.

You return the smile. “Yeah, I guess that would be a bit odd. Ya know, since I’m your covergirl or whatever.” He’s intrigued by your wording. Of course, you are his cover girl, Jungkook knows that. But the way you said it just now sounded so fucking sexy to Jungkook.

“My covergirl?” He sing as he leans his shoulder on the wall. Nodding your head, butt pressed against the vanity behind you— confidently. Because the sexual tension between the two of you couldn’t even be cut by a knife. “Yeah, that’s usually what people call it. I think it’s funny how this is my first time speaking to my employer. Scared of me?” You test. Jungkook’s eyebrows flick up at your ‘sass’.

“Your employer?” You actually let out a little chuckle this time. “Are you gonna keep repeating everything I say?” You sarcastically ask before slickly eying him up and down. The white, short sleeved crew neck he has clinging onto all of his muscles and the exposure of his tatted right arm has tears rolling down your thighs. And the black cargo pants that are swallowing his tiny waste makes you bite your bottom lip. But we must stay focused!

“No, just a little intrigued.” He says, pushing himself off of the wall. “And no. I’m not scared of you. Just figured I’d keep my distance.” He trails off his sentence as you boost yourself up to sit on the white vanity behind you. The miniskirt rides up your thighs even more (if that’s even possible), your thighs press against the vanity top makes them look even more attractive and edible to the man standing in front of you— he almost forgets why he came in here in the first place.

“Why’d you figure that?” You tilt your head to the side innocently. But absolutely nothing is innocent about it. You are purposely teasing him— in attempts to seduce him. See if the good boy, ‘youngest’ is as good as people say he is.

Ask and you shall receive, because Jungkook is once again picturing you without that skimpy laced bra and with your legs wide open. The thought has him hard as a rock underneath his baggy cargo pants.

“Wanted to keep things professional.” He forces out. The underlying message doesn’t go over your head but you choose to ignore it. “So what are you doing here now?” With that, Jungkook lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Stepping away from the wall, he makes his way closer to the large white vanity you’re sitting on.

“I just wanted to compliment you on the amazing performance you did today. Everything went smoothly and it’s been a great week.” He says genuinely and you gladly take the compliment, letting out a small “thank you”— to which he battles.

“No, thank you. You really made this whole thing come to life so really, thank you.” You smile from ear to ear at his sincerity, feeling overwhelmingly gratified and proud… and still wet.

“Well your designs are amazing so you should have majority of the credit— by the way, can I keep this!” Asking, pointing to the miniskirt that hugs your hips. Jungkook’s tongue slides out of his mouth, wetting his lips, slightly playing with his lip ring.

“Of course, it’s all yours. Can’t think of anyone who’d wear it better than you do anyways.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. He didn’t even mean to flirt he just said what he was thinking and it remains true. You are the sexiest woman Jungkook has laid eyes on. And if he doesn’t get out of this dressing room right now, his balls might explode.

But in the midst of the internal war Jungkook’s facing, you hum. “Is that why you kept staring at me all day? At first I thought you regretted your decision.” You say and before you could continue your overly sarcastic remarks he interrupts with the rapid shaking of his head.

“I could never regret choosing you.” Your heart dropped to your ass at his words and you’re scared if you move the wrong way the arousal between your thighs (that has been lathered onto the vanity) may drip onto the floor. Without saying much else, he doesn’t let his nerves stop him from stepping closer to you— nearly in between your legs.

He places his hand beside yours that rests on top of the vanity. Slowly his hand intertwines with yours. His touch so soft; the hair on your neck stands tall. His eyes glazing over your plumped lips, layered in lip gloss that shined under the light

“You’re perfect,” is the last thing he says before his lips slowly meet yours.

You could hear angles singing from close range as you finally snag the taste of his lips. His lip ring tickles your lip, sending a shiver down your spine. A soft moan escapes your mouth and Jungkook feels like he just won the lottery.

His tatted hand glides up your thigh, basking in the feeling of your soft brown skin under his touch. He gently caress your naked thighs, spreading them apart to properly stand in between them.

You let out a little huff as you feel him licking and leaving open mouth kisses against your jawline. “From the first moment I laid eyes on you,” he says in between kisses and you feel his breath on your neck, making your clit pulse. “I knew you were perfect.”

You pull your lips away to look at him. The heavy breathing fills the dressing room as the two of you look into each other’s eyes, the similar look of need in both of your eyes.

You slide your hands up Jungkook’s torso, to his broad shoulders, resting them on his neck. Pulling him down closer to you, you say, “Touch me.”

Which was all Jungkook needed to hear before attacking your lips again, your hand wrapped around his shoulders as you slightly grind into his clothed member. You could feel the bulge through his pants, exciting you even more.

“Oh my god— Jungkook.” You whine when he bites at your neck. His hands move to your chest, caressing your boobs through the fabric of the bra you still had on. Until he unfastens it, sliding the bra down your arms with your help.

His hands worry themselves with the feel of your tits again fitting perfectly under his hold. You bite your bottom lip to hold back the moans from the sensitivity of his fingers pinching your nipples. Within seconds his hands are replaced with his mouth and he sucks and nibbles on your nipples.

Your hips grind faster against his hard-on. “Jungkook, I need you.” You whimper impatiently. He removes his mouth from your chest, giving you a quick peck on the lips before smirking down at you which takes you for a whirl. Taking a step back he looks down in between the close proximity of you two.

He spreads your thighs father apart to reach down under your miniskirt to find your bare pussy wetter than the Caribbean Sea.

“No panties— are you nuts?” He exclaims with the raise of his eyebrows. “If I would’ve known I was talking to you like this I would’ve bent you over this fucking vanity once I walked in.” He sexily groans against your swollen lips. The heat between your bodies are making you even more needy than usual.

The two of you share breaths as your lips hover over the other’s. You gasp heavily into his mouth as his finger drags down your slippery slit.

He lets out a low groan at the feeling of your slickness and the feeling of his dick growing harder inside of his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Making matters worse, you remove your hand from his shoulder to grip the thick bulge between his legs, almost flinching at the size of it. You look up at him with that needy look you have in your eyes that’s driving him up a wall.

“Then do it,” pulling him down to lick up his sharp jawline. “Bend me over and fuck me good.” You whisper into his ear.

Jungkook snaps, he pulls you off of the vanity, pulling you closer to him to taste the sweet taste of your lip gloss again. The kiss is cut short when he spins you around to bend you over the white vanity top, true to his word.

You let out a high pitched gasp as your bare chest hits the vanity top. He stands over your form, hands caressing your thighs, slowly moving up to your plump ass. His hand smacking against your ass echoes throughout the room and Jungkook’s dick twitches at the sight of your ass jiggling.

“So fucking pretty.” He says before crouching down, face all in your cookie. He bites his lips as you spread your legs further apart, desperate for his mouth.

Again, he drags his thumb down your slit and you let out load moan of pleasure from the sensation of his touch. Your hand quickly covers your mouth. “You have to be quiet princess.” The words smoothly passed through his mouth like butter making your knees weak. However, they actually buckle once you feel his tongue swipe through your slick. Your head lowers into your chest to try to keep your composure.

“Mmm,” he moans while licking through your folds, eating your cunt like it’s his favorite meal. “You taste so damn good.” He aggressively spreads your legs wider to attack your pussy with his mouth.

Your legs shake as you fee his tongue going in and out of your hole, his thumb rubbing over your swollen clit. The grip of his hand on your ass doesn’t let up as you squeeze your legs together around his head.

“R—right there! I’m gonna—” Your hole clenches around his tongue as you felt your stomach tightening. Just when you feel yourself releasing, he stops. He pulls away.

“What the fuck.” You curse in frustration. He leans his body over yours, gripping your hair to turn your head to the side. You let out a moan at his roughness.

“You’re too pretty to be cursing, princess.” He says against your lips before attacking them with a wet, sloppy kiss. You push your ass against his dick, needy from the absence of his tongue. You whimper against his mouth.

“You want me to fuck you bad, huh?” He teases, roughly brushing his bulge over your wet folds. He lets out a groan at the feeling. “Yes— mm! Fuck, yes Jungkook. I need your dick inside of me.” Jungkook places one last sloppy kiss on your lips, lets go of the grip on your hair and began unbuttoning his pants.

They instantly falls down to his ankles and he lowers his boxer briefs, letting them fall the his ankles as well, his dick smacking his stomach. You can’t see his length that he pumps in his hand behind you— but god, when he starts thrusting it in between your ass cheeks you can feel it.

It makes you nervous because you didn’t expect him to be so big. But you grow more aroused at the thought of him fucking you silly, wrecking your tight little pussy. He slowly rubs the tip of his dick over your folds, coating his dick with your arousal, layering over his pre-cum. “I hope you’re fine with me going in raw, didn’t really have me fucking you in mind before I came here today.” You nod your head faster than you ever did in your life.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just p— put it in.” He chuckles at your impatience and without a second thought, he slowly thrusts himself inside of you. Both of your moans fill the room as his dick penetrates your tight hole. You let out a shaky breath as he pulls back, just for him to thrust inside of you again.

The pain of his length ripping through you has your head spinning. As he thrusts again, he bends down over your shaky body to leave a light kiss on your shoulder. “You okay?” He softly asks and you hesitantly nod your head with your eyes shut close. “Y— yeah, just getting used to it. I’m… fine.” With that, he softly leave a kiss on your cheek before lifting back up and thrusting into you again.

He whisper out curses as your tight pussy swallows his dick and he relishes the sight of it.

After a few more thrusts the pain subsides and it is quickly replaced with the feeling of pleasure. Jungkook, wraps his hand under you to caress your tit as he continues to plunge himself deeper into your sex.

“Faster p— please,” you whisper out and you couldn’t even brace yourself for the next thrust. His hard dick hits your spot and your knees give out on you. He holds your waist out with his hands as he continuously abuses your hole. Your bodies jerk forward with each thrust.

“Your pussy feels so good around my dick, _______.” He says and you let out another high moan— hitting notes you’ve never hit before. He roughly grabs your hair again, lifting you up to make your back arch. You can see the both of you through the mirror, you can see him fucking you dirty, the way his eyebrows furrow looking down at the way your cunt swallows his length, the sight gets you even more aroused— if that’s even possible.

He finally looks up at you through the mirror. He sends you a smirk before going absolutely feral. “Hold on for me, princess.” His grip on your hair tightens as he fiercely thrusts into you. Faster, deeper, harder, he is literally blowing your back out. Your eyes squeeze shut and loud screams escape your mouth. The hand gripping your hair quickly covers your mouth to block out the lewd sounds you let out.

You can feel the knot in your stomach tightening at the fast pace and the constant pounding on your cervix. The feeling grows with Jungkook wrap his free hand over your thigh to rub your clit as he sloppily thrusts into you.

“Cum for me baby.” He says lowly and out of breath as his pace quickens. Your moans are muffled into his hand while he penetrates your cunt and stimulates your clit. “Fuck,” he says as you cum around his length, your legs shaking as Jungkook reaches his high. The sounds of your juices lapping together fills the room and you feel Jungkook’s warm release flow inside of you.

The two of you breathe heavily as Jungkook’s dick rests inside of you. After Jungkook has gotten his composure back, he pulls out, watching as your cunt discharges his cum down your thighs. Quickly pulling his pants up and jogging over to the corner to grab a paper towel, he comes back to clean you with it.

Your body is still limp over the vanity as he does so. “I hope I wasn’t too rough.” He says. You lift up, standing on your own, pulling the miniskirt down over your ass. Shaking your head. “No,” you let out a little chuckle. “That was amazing.”

Your eyes sparkle as they look up at his. He’s almost hypnotized by them, he drops his head to yours, kissing your lips again, his hands on the small of your back. “You have no idea how long I’ve been holding back.” You giggle at him.

“How long?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hand reaches your face, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he basks in your beauty and the feeling of your arms around him.

“Since the day I chose you as my COVERGIRL.”

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#who(re) you 🍂#jiminscockr1ng #˚ · .˚ ༘🦋⋆｡˚#bts smut #bts fanfic #kpop smut #bts x black reader #black reader #bts x reader #jungkook x black reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

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fangirl-dot-com · 2 months

Text

Chapter 25 - Release the Ice Bath Thirst Traps

Ok guys! here we go!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED (sorry for those who have asked)

For the very end of the chapter, there's something I made up for Singapore (this fact is made up just for the story)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, inbox messages, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Love you all and enjoy :D

The moment you stepped out of the cool, airconditioned car, your team shirt suddenly clung to you. Beads of sweat dripped from your forehead as you made your way through the paddock. Max had warned you that Singapore and Qatar would be impossibly hot: you just didn’t think it’d be this bad.

All you wanted to do now was go back to the hotel where it was ice cold. You wiped your brow with your forearm as you got closer to the garage. Giant fans welcomed you with air. It wasn’t freezing cold, but it would do. You were already on your third water today, smartly forgoing the Red Bull that was bound to make you dehydrated.

You stood next to Max as the team had a quick debrief. The heat was definitely getting to you, as you really couldn’t remember a word that anyone said. You blink your eyes as they were burning with sweat. Your older teammate could only offer you a remorseful smile.

Max could see that the heat wasn’t going too well with you. You had told him beforehand that some females, including you, just couldn’t regulate their temperatures as well as males could. Women often gave off more body heat than men did as well. This caused the Dutchman to send out a group text, warning the other drivers to look out for you.

You groaned as you tried to put on your fireproofs and race suit. The more you moved around, the more you seemed to sweat. You kept your suit tied around your waist. You definitely wouldn’t be putting it on until you had to be in the car.

Max was already zipped up by the time you returned.

“Here.” He handed you another ice cold water bottle.

“Thank you Max,” you croaked out, making the Dutchman look a little weary at you. You just smiled back.

“Once we qualify, we can go to the ice baths.”

Max would have thought that you would hate the idea since you always showered with the water at a boiling temperature. Yet, he could see that you were slightly “warming up” to the idea of a bath full of ice (pun intended).

From the corner, Mitch watched as you poured the remainder of your water on your head. She had requested a few ice packs to be ready for you when you arrived, but sadly they weren’t completely frozen. She’d make sure that you’d have them for tomorrow.

Surprisingly, your laps were great with you qualifying in P3, behind Charles once again. Halfway through, you had opened your visor, trying to get some air through your sweaty helmet. Your water pouch had to be refilled multiple times between sessions. Yet, your trainer advised you to try not to drink so much during the race, as they wouldn’t be able to refill.

Mitch had come over to your car as soon as you were back in. You gave her a big smile as you started to get out of the car.

“How are you doing kid?”

You took a moment to look at her outfit. Where a pantsuit should have been, there was a Red Bull Tank top and some very loose pants. You were jealous that she got to wear those while you were stuck with skin tight clothes.

You gasped a bit for some cooler air once your helmet was off.

“I’m good. Max said something about an ice bath?”

Your eyes were faintly glimmering with hope for something to cool you down. Mitch smiled at you.

“Yep. I put a change of clothes on your bed, but I think you need some help?”

You nodded at her question before heading to your room. You didn’t want to waste any time getting out of your suit.

The zipper came off smoothly. Mitch definitely saw that you had sweated through your fireproofs and felt terrible. Surely, there was something that the team could do.

You giggled. “I’ve probably already lost a few pounds.”

Mitch rolled her eyes at the terrible joke. If anything, there was truth in that statement. She had seen the numbers after you got weighed and you had lost a lot.

“Well, there will be lots of food for you to fill up on.”

“I hope we’re not going to go over the catering budget again.”

Mitch let out a snort as she helped you out of the sticky fire proofs. She pulled out a bag and handed it to you. You grinned at the sight of the limited clothes in the bag.

“I didn’t think that you’d want to go out in full bikini, so there’s a sports bra and some spandex shorts. I’ll wait for you by your door and will walk you to the back.”

Once Mitch left, you quickly peeled the rest of your clothes off. The sports bra and spandex were all black, and covered everything that needed to be. You said a quick thank you to her in your mind as you got dressed. Your skin was definitely cooler with no clothes to stick to, but you were still sweating.

You swung the door open.

“Ready to go?” you asked, giving her the bag back with your other clothes. They would definitely need to be washed by tomorrow.

You followed the woman to the back, going through multiple doors. Once she opened the door to the little outside area, your eyes landed on Max, who was already soaking. His eyes were closed as he leaned his head back on the tub.

Yours was a bit more like a giant trough, filled to the brim with ice.

Mitch spoke as you got closer. “We thought that you’d need more ice, hence why yours is bigger. It’s also more insulated with the metal than the plastic. Do not stay in more than 15 minutes. We don’t need your temperature dropping too much.”

You tossed your foot over and gingerly place a toe in, just to get a feel for it. The temperature was perfect and you found yourself sinking into the ice.

“You think it’s ok if I dunk my head?” you asked Max.

He didn’t even bother to open his eyes.

“Go for it kid.”

You held your breath as you sunk below the ice layer. Your brain went a bit fuzzy as the freezing water went over your scalp. You let your eyes open under the water, just to feel the cold and relieve the stinging.

Once you came up gasping for air, Max finally looked over.

“Had fun?” He laughed a bit.

You lovingly flipped him off. Your hands came and brushed your hair back. You looked over at Max’s plastic pool, and saw ducks in his. You pouted once you realized that you didn’t have any.

“What’s wrong kid?” the Dutchman asked at the sight of your pout.

You murmured, “I didn’t get any ducks.”

Max rolled his eyes before gently throwing one of his ducks into your pool. Your eyes immediately lit up as you began to play with it. Max just watched as you found so much joy in something so little. You felt his gaze and you guessed that you needed to say something.

“I never had a rubber duck growing up. It’s so cute.”

You held the little yellow thing in your hands, right in front of your face. Max had a sad smile as he watched.

“You have plans for after the race?”

You sighed as you let the duck rest on the water, not breaking the surface tension.

“Logan, Oscar, and Lando wanted to go see the city and I said I’d join them. Something about needing a good drive around Singapore.”

Max snorted. Of course the group of three would want to invite you. The door opened, which had the two of you whip your heads to it.

“Oh, hey David,” you greeted the photographer. You sank back into the ice, still enjoying the cold. Max groaned when he realized what David was there for.

You smirked as you looked over at your teammate. “Ready to do some thirst traps Max?”

The Dutchman rolled his eyes. “Let’s leave that for Ferrari and Lando.”

You giggled at the statement. “Yeah, I would rather not show much on screen. Taken woman and all.”

That time, Max laughed.

David looked apologetic. “Just need to get some pictures. Trust me, this isn’t my favorite.”

He took some pictures while you and Max tried to look as non-sexy as possibly. You definitely tried to sneak some goofy facial expressions in. You kept your whole body submerged and thankfully the ice kept anyone from seeing much below your neck. David quickly thanked the two of you for your time before leaving.

“Instagram is going to have a field with those.”

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing splish, splash - racers in the ice baths

liked by arthur_leclerc, y/n.nation, rookie&maxie, landonorris, and 846,294 others

redbullfan what the heck is this?? this was not the thirst traps we wanted

maximillian he's giving "moto-moto likes you"

y/n.nation everyone is focused on the lack of thirst-traps, I'm just focused on the amount of ducks that Red Bull has

oscarpiastri what are your duck's names?

landonorris probably can't top cold, as, and fuck y/n.89 max's is James Pond and mine is Duck Norris landonorris my son?? y/n.89 no - something american so you won't understand logansargeant DUCK NORRIS RAWWRRRRR

rookie&co BOOOOOO TOMATOES TOMATOES TOMATOES

f1fan I know admin is hiding the thirst traps

charles_leclerc no thirst traps?

maxverstappen1 we leave that to you and the Spaniard y/n.89 I mean, I could be sexy if I wanted carlossainz55 sure chica, sure y/n.89 who is single? and who is taken maxverstappen1 HA

iamred_iamyellow ducks, ducks, ducks, ducks

You snorted at the Dutchman’s bluntness.

The timer on the wall signaled that it was time to get out. You let out a giant groan as you stood and climbed over.

Mitch came in with two big towels. One for you and one for Max. Your skin was finally covered with goosebumps instead of sweat. You quickly had an idea as you walked back to put normal clothes on.

“You think I could dunk my head in before I get in the car? I think my wet hair will keep my head cooler if I do. It’s something about heat escaping through your scalp when you overheat. If it’s covered by my balaclava and my helmet, it can’t escape.”

Mitch finished your thought process.

“So if you wet your hair, your scalp can be cooler longer.”

You nodded before heading into your room.

“Ah, Max wanted me to hand this to you.”

It was a normal Red Bull polo, which made your brows pinch in confusion. But, you shrugged and took it anyways.

However, once you started changing you realized that the shirt was almost three sizes too big. Yet, you grinned as you put it on. Since it was oversized, it wasn’t sticking to your skin as you started to sweat a little.

The crew laughed a bit at the sight of the giant shirt almost swallowing you. But, you didn’t care about that. You were significantly cooler and you could follow the last debrief of the day.

Sunday night came and went super-fast, and you were thankful this time around. You were definitely more cool that you had been for qualifying. Mitch had sent the ice vest to you early, so you didn’t start off too warm. With your hair being dunked in ice water, your head was cooler during the race. The little bit of breeze that you got helped as well.

That bit really helped you stay focused as you gained another podium. Surprisingly, this was Max’s first time winning in Singapore. Adrian really made sure that the car could keep up with the street race and not end it like 2023. Charles came in a very close second.

Charles and Max poured their champagne bottles onto your overheating body. Halfway through you needed to sit down. Your body was slowly becoming even more dehydrated and hot as the minutes passed by. You were kind of held by Max as the three of you left the podium.

The Dutchman had a worried grip on your bicep as he held you upright. He needed to get you some water, quickly. You thankfully weren’t on the verge of passing out, but he knew you were thirsty. He heard your radio toward the end where you were just begging for a drink. Max couldn’t imagine being without water, but he normally didn’t drink as much while racing.

He gently set you on a seat in the garage, before turning away to get some things. Your eyes were closed as you sat right under a fan. Max soon returned with a cooling towel and three bottles of water.

The cold of the towel made your eyes open as he put it on your neck. Your race suit was tied around your waist and your fireproof shift had been swapped for a thin, random oversized shirt. Max gently cooed as you leaned into the cold water bottle on your face.

“There you go,” he whispered as you finally were able to take big gulps of water. He unscrewed one of the other bottles before he lightly tipped it over your head. Streams of water ran down your face as you finished off the water bottle.

The team was glancing at the two of you. In the back of their minds, they were worried about how you’d react to Qatar, which was way worse. However, they held on to some hope that it would be cooler than last year due to it being moved later on the race calendar.

Your water bottle was on in moments. You flashed a smile at your worried teammate.

“Thanks,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath after guzzling.

Mitch came from the back with another woman who was holding a device. Mitch kneeled next to Max and put her hand on your knee.

“Hey kid, we just want to make sure that you’re okay. Brianna here is going to take your blood pressure and other vitals just to be safe.”

You only nodded and leaned your head against the wall. The medic made quick work and started to strap the device on. Max stood up and walked a bit away, just to give everyone some space. His eyes caught glimpses of orange, red, and blue and he could only guess who it was. He took one more glance at the situation before walking out of the garage.

Logan, Charles, Lando, and Oscar were waiting patiently by the opening. They all looked up once they heard Max walk out, but deflated when they realized it wasn’t the Red Bull driver they were looking for.

“Is she doing okay?” Charles asked first, concerning the other three boys.

Lando put his arms out, stopping any conversation.

“What does he mean by ‘is she doing ok?’ Where’s Y/n?” the Brits voice going more high pitched the more he started to panic.

Max sighed. “She’s just having a hard time with the heat. She got super dehydrated this weekend and really couldn’t get over it.”

He pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

“They’re just checking vitals I think, to make sure everything is ok.”

Logan sighed loudly in concern. He definitely knew what it was like, getting memories from Qatar 2023.

The American asked, “Is she going to race in Qatar?”

Max blinked slowly before answering. “She wants to. The team is really hoping that it’s going to be significantly cooler than last year. And they know to get her started on hydration much earlier. I talked to her physio and she thinks that Y/n’s diet also wasn’t right.”

Oscar raised his eyebrows. “Diet?”

Max nodded. “Yeah. She was apparently eating foods that might dehydrate the body, like lots of salt. Her physio said that she’ll start her on more fruits and water heavy foods way in advance. And drinks as well, more electrolytes.”

Lando nodded in agreement. “I remember when I had to do that. They took away my chips for like….months.”

They had been so into talking that they didn’t notice that you had walked out, now changed into shorter shorts and a bigger top (one that Charles strangely recognized as one of his brother’s shirts).

“Are we ready to go?” you asked, getting closer. “Lando is driving because I am done for today.”

The boys looked a bit guilty at your tired face.

Oscar spoke up first. “We don’t have to go driving if you don’t want to. We know you’re probably tired.”

You waved your hands and made a sound. “Nope, I’m good. Nothing will ever beat the one time I spent an entire summer on a farm in the middle of Texas.”

You pretended to shiver at the thought, making the group laugh.

Charles suddenly remembered why he was there in the first place (well, second because he was worried about you after the podium). He handed you a small bag. Opening it up, you saw a bright colored water bottle. You raised your eyebrow in question.

The Monegasque smirked. “From you know how.”

Your face practically melted at the loving gesture as you looked at it. Lando, Oscar, and Logan suddenly got the memo.

Logan wrapped an arm around you first. “Aww such a sweet little boyfriend.”

Oscar looked at Lando.

“Where’s my water bottle?” he mocked whined, batting his eyelashes at the Brit. Your rolled your eyes.

Lando put his arms around the Aussie. “Don’t worry love, it’s in the car.”

The Brit puckered his lips before pretending to lean in. You just watched with an annoyed grin on your face. You looked at Max and Charles and winked, the Dutchman and Monegasque getting what you were about to do. You shrugged Logan’s arm off before taking a step toward your teammate.

But, you purposefully made your knees buckle and fell into Max and Charles’s waiting arms. Lando and Oscar shut up quickly, before yelling that you needed help. Except that they heard your giggles as Max put you back on your feet.

“I was just kidding.”

The trio huffed.

Logan murmured, “That was not funny.”

Charles snorted. “Oh but it was. Should have seen your faces.”

Your giggled died out before you asked, “Are we ready to go? I think I’ll melt if I stand out here for any longer.”

Lando flicked your forehead. “We were just waiting on you.”

The four of you said your goodbyes to Max and Charles before heading to the parking lot. Somehow, Logan got his hands on a Jeep to take the four of you somewhere. And, he was even able to get the top off. And because he claimed it was an all American brand, Logan begged Lando to let him drive it. Lando reluctantly handed over the keys.

You claimed earlier that you needed shotgun, because “men can’t be passenger princesses.” Oscar and Lando tried to disagree.

The breeze from outside in addition to the cool air-conditioning from the car was perfect. You let everyone have their turn with the aux, praying that they wouldn’t pick anything too embarrassing.

Oscar ripped the phone out of your hands when Logan tried to request Free Bird again.

The Aussie sighed as the American whined.

“We are not having another shirt ripped or a speeding ticket.”

You laughed as Logan tried to hit Oscar in the back. At an empty road, Lando grabbed his camera.

“Bug, put your head out the window real fast.”

You did as suggested and smiled toward the camera that Lando was holding.

Immediately you had a sense of déjà vu. Except this time, it was actual friends in the car and not just your manager. You thought back to how far you’ve come since the night before going to Milton.

Lando laughed as he looked at the camera.

He spoke, “This reminds me about the time that me and my friends were driving around and then this car pulled up next to ours. They were blasting What Makes You Beautiful and there was this girl in the front seat.”

Your cheeks were becoming warm as Lando kept telling the story: that was definitely about you. Lando kept blabbing about the night.

“And then the next morning, I got out of my hotel elevator and I think the same girl literally bulldozed me over. Didn’t say sorry or anything. I just thought it was funny, she seemed like she was in a rush.”

Logan was laughing at the story, but got concerned at your flushed appearance and sudden quietness.

“You alright champ? Do we need to get you some more water?”

At the sound of the question, Lando and Oscar were leaning up, trying to look to see if you were going to actually pass out. Lando was already on his phone, trying to bring up Max’s contact to call just in case.

However, you started laughing, making the trio at ease. You tried to cover your giggles with your mouth. You had this bright look in your eyes.

“That was actually me Lando. Sorry about that.”

Lando’s jaw dropped at the reveal.

You gave a half shrug. “Arthur was waiting for me in my hotel room and I was excited to see him.”

Logan’s and Oscar’s shoulders were shaking as they kept laughing at Lando’s facial expressions. The Brit huffed and crossed his arms, mouth formed into a pout.

“You owe me a race win now.”

“Excuse you?”

“You heard me.”

“Uh, guys?” Logan asked, but you and Lando ignored him.

“Get your own race win. You’ve done it before.”

“Cause Max crashed out.”

“That’s not true.”

“Guys?” Oscar’s voice also sounded, worry in his tone.

“Lando, it’s really not that hard. You just go around him.”

“It’s a tractor versus a rocket ship. One cannot simply just go around.”

“GUYS!”

“What?” you and Lando yelled at the same time. Once the car was silent, you finally noticed that it had stopped moving.

“Logan why aren’t you driving?”

You looked at the American, who was slightly shaking while looking in the rearview mirror. Your eyes glanced at it, blue and red lights reflecting through the glass. You looked behind you and saw the source.

“Ah shit.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Alexa, play free bird by lynard skynard

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, redbullrocket, and 725,028 others

box_box_express oh thank goodness she's out

y/n.nation you think she jailbreaked?

georgerussell63 good to see that I don't need to pull up any power point presentations on why you four shouldn't go to jail

y/n.89 good to know that you have one ready? landonorris you think that we'd actually get arrested?? logansargeant oh yee of little faith oscarpiastri it was already ready???????

change_ur_f-car BAHAHAHAHAH I'M DEAD - ARRESTED RACE CAR DRIVERS FOR BEING IN A CAR

formulalala_delulu this whole race/day was a fever dream

christianhorner good to see you not in cuffs kid

y/n.89 good to not be in cuffs maxverstappen1 rookie arrest before I was y/n.89 HA I BEAT MAX VERSTAPPEN IN EQUAL MACHINERY landonorris oh that's not...ok

lestappenlove your honor I love them

Race Results

Max Verstappen - 25 points

Charles Leclerc - 18 points

Y/n L/n - 16 points (fastest lap)

Carlos Sainz - 12 points

Oscar Piastri - 10 points

Alex Albon - 8 points

Lando Norris - 6 points

Logan Sargeant - 4 points

Pierre Galsy - 2 points

Daniel Ricciardo - 1 point

Champions Standings

Max Verstappen - 334 points

Charles Leclerc - 304 points

Y/n L/n - 223 points

Lando Norris - 196 points

Carlos Sainz - 157 points

Oscar Piastri - 140 points

Lewis Hamilton - 113 points

Alex Albon - 70 points

George Russell - 65 points

Fernando Alonso - 45 points

Logan Sargeant - 44 points

Daniel Ricciardo - 26 points

Lance Stroll - 17 points

Pierre Gasly - 14 points

Valtteri Bottas - 13 points

Yuki Tusnuoda - 9 points

Zhou Guanyu - 1 point

Nico Hulkenberg

Kevin Magnussen

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull - 557 points

Ferrari - 461 points

McLaren - 336 points

Mercedes - 178 points

Williams - 114 points

Aston Martin - 62 points

Alpha Tauri - 35 point

Alpha Romeo - 14 points

Alpine - 14 points

Haas - 0 points

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

817 notes · View notes

vivwritescrappythings · 2 months

Text

Unfair

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

an au about Joel attending a wedding simply inspired by Pedro's slutty little fit at the SAG awards.

part 2

tw: age gap (late 20s/late 40s), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, alcohol, she/her pronouns, reader has hair long enough to twist around her finger, Joel is probably poorly written in this, and this whole thing is a little poorly written.

word count: 7.2k

MDNI

masterlist

–

Your mom was smiling as you zipped her into her gown, the chiffon and lace dress gorgeous on her as you fastened the eyelet closed at the top of the bodice. You could feel the lens of the photographer’s camera trained on you both, the woman having been with you the entire morning to document the process of the bridal party getting ready.

The photographer was fluttering around the room, taking candid photos of you all making small talk and toasting mimosas. The posed photos had been earlier that morning, you all wearing your matching silk robes with your names screen-printed on the back. You didn’t know how much had been spent on the whole production–but it certainly wasn’t cheap. But, to see your mom glowing and her wide smile all morning, every penny must have been more than worth it.

Before you realized, you all wore dresses and bouquets of white flowers with magnificent greenery were being thrust in your hands. The wedding planner was ushering everyone out onto the stone walkway to the barn, women finally meeting men just outside the farmhouse turned wedding venue. The best man looked vaguely familiar to you as you placed your hand in the crook of his elbow to walk down the aisle, he must have been Shawn's eldest brother.

The officiant droned: he just repeated the same platitudes of what it means to love one another and be good spouses. You tried to stay focused, your eyes inevitably wandering. The ceremony space was picturesque: southern live oaks casting shadows in the late autumn sun as they married in front of the barn. It really couldn’t get more Texas than that, especially when you counted the number of cowboy hats in the crowd.

You could feel someone staring at you for the better part of the ceremony, making you glance out of the corner of your eye as you tried to find the source. Every fiber of you wanted to turn and look in earnest, but you knew that you’d ruin the photos as soon as your body twisted and your happy, grinning face wasn’t facing the bride and groom on the best day of their lives.

Your grip tightened around the bouquet in your hands as your skin crawled, your focus so jarred that you almost missed your cue to walk out. The cheers and clapping woke you from your reverie before the best man had to. Grasping him by the elbow, you walked back up the aisle between the celebrating wedding guests, the feeling of being watched now fading to the background.

—

When you finally made it to the renovated barn, you were starving and in desperate need of a drink. The photos had run long, the photographers getting you all in a variety of line ups and poses. It was almost time for the plated dinner to begin, guests settling at assigned tables after a cocktail hour and the live band playing quiet music in the corner of the half-inside half-outside space that would eventually serve as the dance floor.

The orange lighting from string lights along the ceiling was soft, mismatched Edison bulbs hanging along zigzagged wires from wooden rafters. It painted the guests and decor in gold tones, making everything look sepia like an old photo.

With your double shot vodka tonic in hand, you found your name written in gold calligraphy on the seating chart. Your mom and her new husband were sitting together at a small table at the front of the room, a faux-neon sign behind them that displayed his last name. Well, their last name now.

You were at one of the front tables, the ivory table cloth nearly brushing the shiny wooden floor as you plucked your name card off your plate and sat down. There were only a few people you knew at the wedding, neighbors from the neighborhood you grew up in and a handful of your mother’s coworkers. But, they were seated elsewhere.

Some of the seats on the opposite side of the sprawling white and green centerpiece were occupied with strangers in flamboyant cowboy hats and boots, an obvious sign they were from out of town. You smiled politely as you sat down, taking a long sip of your drink as you checked your phone for the moment of downtime.

“This seat taken?” A deep, twangy voice made your gaze cut away from the screen and up to the right. You were immediately dumbstruck by how handsome the man was, his umber colored eyes reminding you of the sunlight hitting the tree trunks during the ceremony. A few of his dark brown curls were falling on his tanned forehead, the rest of his hair loosely pushed back.

You floundered for a moment, lips parting and no words coming out of your mouth. Finally you caught up, blinking a few times. The place card in front of the ornate gold and white place setting next to yours was your saving grace. “Well, uh, if you’re Joel M., the seat is all yours,” you said, looking back up at him.

God, you hoped he was Joel.

He smiled, the lines on his face becoming a bit more defined as he extended a hand toward you. “Joel Miller, nice to meet you…” he trailed off, waiting for your assistance.

You slipped your hand into his, his calloused palm engulfing yours as he shook it politely. You introduced yourself, neck craned back so you could look him in the eye. He released your hand and sat down, setting the glass he was holding next to yours on the table cloth.

“So how do you know the couple?” Joel asked you, his gaze dragging over you. You tried not to squirm under the weight of it, your face feeling hot as you set your phone face-down on the table. The way he looked at you made you feel like a bug caught under a microscope.

“The bride is my mom,” you said, fiddling with the elegantly folded cloth napkins for a moment. You glanced at her briefly, watching her giggle at something Shawn had said.

Joel nodded, a huff of a laugh following. “No shit, so you’re the stepdaughter?” he asked, an eyebrow raised as a smirk lifted the corner of his lip. One of your eyebrows lifted of its own volition, his reaction catching you off guard.

“Do I have a reputation?” A sip of your drink helped wet your dry tongue, your eyes trained on him over the rim of your glass. There was a spike of anxiety in your chest, the temporary fear that he’d heard something bad about you filling your mind. You held your glass in your hand as you crossed your legs at the ankle, waiting for his response.

Joel paused to take a drink, a hand scrubbing over his beard as he looked back at you. He shook his head, waving a hand in a way that was meant to be placating. “Shawn told me about you, said you just moved back to town a few months ago.”

“Um, yeah, actually. Moved back from Denver,” you said, bashful that the subject of you even came up. You hadn’t realized that you were important enough in Shawn’s life to mention, especially to his friends. Of course, there wasn’t animosity between the two of you, just what you assumed was limited interest. Most men didn't bother to learn too much about their adult stepchildren.

You were both leaning forward as you spoke, the music and chatter of the other guests making the barn a little too loud to hear one another clearly at a distance. He was looking down at his drink, giving you an opportunity to study his profile. Joel was easily twenty years your senior, the dark beard on his jawline threaded through with patches of silver hair.

“So—“ Joel started, getting cut off by the shuffle of the last people to their seats and an arm thrust between the two of you. The waiters serving the plated dinner made you sit upright in your chair, the soft fabric of your dress fluttering as you put some space between Joel and yourself.

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you took the first bite of your food, a sigh escaping you as your eyelashes batted against your cheeks. Conversation floated around your head, you caught polite questions about Joel’s construction business and half-assed replies.

For some reason your mother had put you at a table full of Shawn’s friends, maybe in an attempt to help you get to know him better.

“So you’re a contractor?” you asked after your hunger had been satiated. You’d gotten a refill on your drink from one of the waiters, nursing a fresh vodka tonic as you looked at Joel.

He chewed his steak methodically, nodding as he turned slightly to look at you. “Been building houses for years, my brother, Tommy, works with me,” Joel said after he swallowed, taking his cloth napkin off his wide thigh to wipe the corner of his mouth.

“Do you like it?” you asked after a moment of contemplation, tilting your head to one side as you looked at him.

There was something about him that kept you smiling, your lips curved like a bow as you sipped your drink from the straw. You studied his features while you could, his aquiline nose and his full lower lip intriguing. Way too intriguing for someone who was your stepfather’s friend.

“Pays the bills, keeps the roof over me and Sarah’s heads.” Joel finished his plate, picking up his drink and leaning back in his seat.

Sarah? Your eyes dropped to his left hand, not seeing a ring on any of the fingers. Not even a tan line. He noticed it, making your face burn as he chuckled. “Sarah? Your…”

“Daughter,” he cut in helpfully. Daughter, he had a daughter. You exhaled, relieved. But, did he have a wife? No ring, never mentioned her. He would’ve brought her up by now. She would've attended the wedding with him. You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath as you rationalized.

Your mouth opened to ask another question when glasses were chimed and dinner was cleared away. Champagne flutes were passed around, and to your horror you realized it was time for your toast. You stood in a fluid motion, adjusting your gown and your hair before heading toward the microphone next to the table with the bride and groom.

–

You spent the rest of the night getting drunk. Champagne became cocktails and cocktails became shots–all with your mother and new stepfather and family and friends from your childhood. Tipsiness made you remove your heels, kicking them off to the side to a forgotten corner as your aching feet pressed against the polished floor.

The dance floor was cramped, the band having transitioned partway through the night to someone’s phone with a playlist hooked up to the speakers. You watched your mom laugh as she was spun around by her new husband, making you smile as you nursed your glass of wine.

“You lost something.” Joel approached, pointing to your strappy heels with a lazy finger.

You grinned, your teeth digging into your lower lip for a moment as you looked up at him. “Looks like you did, too–a few things actually,” you said, nodding toward his shucked suit jacket and tie. The top few buttons of his white shirt were open, revealing just enough of his tanned chest to feel dangerous. He was more disheveled than before, a chilled beer bottle held loosely in his fingers and his cheeks flushed.

Joel chuckled, taking a step closer to you as he took a long drink from his beer. You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, taking a sip of your red wine in tandem.

There was something about this man that had you all kinds of flustered, a giddy lightness in your chest when he focused his attention on you. “So why aren’t you out there dancing?” Joel asked, his warm eyes surveying the dance floor before returning.

You shook your head, a demure smile and a shrug. “Never was much of a dancer.” The last time you really danced was wasted at a frat party in college, the lights low and the music making the house shake. Far from a respectable barn wedding, and definitely not your mother’s respectable barn wedding.

“That’s a shame,” Joel smiled at you, pressing just a bit closer, “a pretty girl like you should be out there.”

You were surprised by the compliment, nearly choking on your wine as your eyebrows lifted. Joel was smirking, his whole body leaning toward yours. You were warm to the touch, your entire face burning under his attentions. It felt like you were in high school again, pining after some older boy that you assumed would never look at you twice–but here he was, looking.

“Do you always flirt with your friend’s stepdaughters?” you asked, hoping to come off as hard to get. Realistically, he already had you in the palm of his hand.

Joel pursed his lips, something mischievous flashing in his dark eyes for a moment. “Just the ones that look like you,” he said, his deep voice low. It was almost too quiet to hear over the music, making you shift forward so you could hear him better.

“Joel.” It would've been chastising if it wasn’t for your bright smile. He exuded an easy confidence that was magnetic, it had your nerves on fire as you selfishly hoped that he would do more than just flirt with you. Your gaze was on his lips for a moment, taking in the lines of his full bottom lip and tidy mustache before meeting his eyes again.

“The couple is getting ready to leave!” You both looked toward the door and watched the wedding planner usher guests out the barn doors. Sparklers were thrust in everyone’s hands, the photographer already positioned at the end of the walkway near the rented white Rolls Royce.

Joel’s hand found the small of your back, warm through the thin fabric of your dress as he guided you toward the door. The wedding planner handed him two sparklers, the long kind that wobbled under their own weight.

The guests had divided into two lines, waiters lighting sparklers on either side of the column created. Joel handed you one as you stood at his side, your bare feet on the warm concrete. You held it out from your body, focused on the bright sizzle of the sparks as they made their way down the lines of powder.

Your mother and Shawn walked through the column of sparklers on cue, laughing and smiling while holding hands. They looked so happy. You could hardly imagine being that happy with someone.

She broke off for a moment to embrace you, making Joel thoughtfully pluck the sparkler out of your fingers so you didn’t burn her.

Tears pushed at your eyelids, overwhelming joy for your mother finally breaking free of your chest. You whispered ‘I love you’s into one another’s ears and pressed kisses to cheeks as you clung to each other. The photographer’s camera was shuttering nearby, catching every intimate moment.

Finally you let her go, tearful and smiling as Shawn pulled her toward the car that would take them to their hotel. Joel’s large hand found the curve of your waist, bringing you to his side as you watched your mother get into the car.

You were tipsy enough to allow it.

He was warm, smelling like cigar smoke and whiskey and cologne. You both were quiet as you watched the car pull away, your shoulders fitting in the space between his arm and torso.

“You wanna help me find my jacket? Think I left it around back when I was smoking a cigar with Shawn,” Joel murmured into your hair. His fingers pressed into your waist, his breath on your neck.

It was enough to distract you. You blinked your tears away, fingertips brushing at the corners of your eyes to make sure your makeup was still intact. “Sure,” you whispered, looking up at him after you’d composed yourself.

Your heart skipped a beat when Joel took your hand, tugging you along with him down the path on the outside of the barn. Both of you were tipsy, giggling and stumbling a bit over the paving stones that had been set in the tall grass. The lights faded behind you, the dim glow through the high windows of the barn and the solitary strand of Edison bulbs between the trees just enough to navigate by.

It all happened so fast, you didn’t even know who initiated it. Joel’s calloused hands were cupping your cheeks and jaw, tilting your head up as your lips met his. He tasted like whiskey and the sweet wedding cake, making you sigh into the kiss as your fingers twisted in his shirt and pulled him close.

You had to stand on your tip toes to kiss him properly, a few soft laughs escaping the both of you when the hard cartilage of your noses bumped and teeth clashed.

He took steps forward until your shoulder blades pressed against the side of the barn. Joel crowded you in, one hand leaving your cheek to brace against the wood behind your waist as he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip. You could feel him smiling.

You always found French kissing to be weird, never knowing quite what to do with your tongue. Whenever a guy had initiated it you managed to cut it off quickly, moving on to some other method of making out to spare yourself the embarrassment of letting your tongue sit there like a dead fish.

Of course you’d seen people do it, always seeming like a lot more licking each other than kissing. Nevertheless, the second time Joel ran his tongue along the seam of your lips you found yourself parting them for him.

Suddenly, you understood. Joel’s tongue massaged over yours as he groaned softly. You wanted him to consume you, letting him take control as he explored your mouth. He tilted your head back more, leaning over you with his full height. You flicked your tongue along his, spine arching toward him in an attempt to get closer.

The horn of the hotel shuttle startled you as you broke apart, chests heaving and your lipstick smeared onto Joel’s mouth.

“You staying at the same hotel as everyone else?” Joel asked, nosing at your hairline as his hands roamed over your dress. He bunched it in his fists, raising the hem above your calves and wrinkling the fabric.

“I am,” you breathed, twisting your fingers in his thick curls.

Joel smiled against your earlobe, nipping at it. “Wanna continue this in my room? Got a king size bed and everything,” he drawled, pulling back to look down at you. There was a sparkle in his eyes, his smile was breathtaking.

You wiped your lipstick off his bottom lip with your thumb, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “You sure?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest in a form of protection from Joel’s possible rejection.

He offered, but there was still a part of you that was worried.

He furrowed his brow, a smile still on his face as he looked down at you in the dark. “'Course I’m sure. Go get your shoes, baby, and I’ll see you on the shuttle.” Joel spun you toward the nearest door to the barn, lightly smacking your ass go get you moving.

You yelped, swatting at his hand with a glare.

“Go on, before I ruin that pretty dress of yours in the dirt out here,” he told you, a smirk on his face as he nodded his chin toward the door. You rolled your eyes, acquiescing to his instructions.

—

It took Joel no time to get you down the hall from the packed elevator and to his room. He clumsily tapped his keycard against the sensor, stamping kisses along the side of your neck as you giggled in the cage of his arms.

Finally he got it to unlock, tightening an arm around your waist as he pushed the door open. Joel took wide, staggered steps on either side of your body as he ushered you inside.

As soon as the door snapped shut he was already lifting the bottom of your dress, kisses turning into bites on the curve of your neck. “Jo-el,” you whined through giggles as you grabbed the forearm he’d locked around your waist.

“Unfair that you’re this fucking pretty,” he mumbled, making your face heat up as you tried to protest. Joel shushed you by grabbing a handful of the meat of your thigh, groaning in your ear.

“How’s it unfair?” you managed to ask, your head spinning from the overwhelming presence of Joel. His rough, calloused hands were groping at your soft flesh, his lips sucking marks on your neck like you were teenagers.

The room was relatively untouched, his open suitcase on the stand near the large windows on the far side of the room. The curtains were slightly open, moonlight filtering in. “S’unfair that I didn’t meet you sooner,” Joel said, scraping his blunt teeth over the sensitive spot just under your earlobe. You shivered in his arms.

He separated from you just enough to shuck his suit jacket that he had haphazardly put on for the shuttle, tossing it on the little sofa in the room. You turned after stepping out of your heels, linking your hands behind Joel’s neck and pulling him in for another kiss.

Joel smiled into it, his hands grabbing your waist and holding you flush against his body. “You still wanna do this?” His fingers moved to your spine and played with the zipper on the back of your dress, looking down at you as he waited for your answer. "Don't want you to feel pressured or anything."

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be,” you murmured, carding your fingers in his thick curls.

Joel just groaned, pressing you flush against him as he captured you in another needy kiss. He pulled the zipper of your dress down in one fluid motion, making a shiver prickle up the length of your spine.

“Let me see ya, baby,” he said against your mouth, pulling the thick straps of your dress down your arms.

You let the fabric pool at your feet, your sheer, skin-colored bra and panties leaving little to the imagination. A wave of insecurity flashed over you, your skin suddenly feeling stretched too tight over your body as your face and neck heated up.

You were too aware of the parts of yourself that you didn’t like: the dimpled flesh on the outside of your thighs and the hairs you hadn’t plucked away because the wedding was the last place you thought you’d find a one night stand. A wobbly smile formed, your instinct making you bury your face in Joel’s neck to hide.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear his praise. His massive hands ran down your sides, thumbing at the mesh of your bra and panties before he started moving you backwards.

Your calves hit the bed, making you squawk in an unflattering way as Joel lowered you to the mattress. “You’re so gorgeous,” he breathed, his lips trailing down your neck until he was kissing and sucking at your sternum. He nudged your knees apart with his free hand, his other forearm planted on the mattress to hold his weight off of you. He slotted himself in the space between your thighs as his tongue laved over your nipple through the mesh fabric of your bra.

The noise that came out of your throat was embarrassing. Your breath turned into a strangled moan, eyebrows pinching together. The sensation only made your arousal increase tenfold, spine already arching to press your tit against his mouth.

Joel chuckled, soft brown eyes ticking up to look at your face. “That sensitive?” he said, more of a statement than a question. You found yourself nodding anyway. He thumbed at your other nipple, making it bud against the thin fabric and pulling another whine from your throat. He snickered.

“Don’t tease,” you huffed, wiggling your hips and lightly squeezing his sides with your knees.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Joel muttered, a smile stretching on his lips as he rolled the pad of his thumb over your nipple again. He placed kisses along your stomach, making you suck in the soft flesh on reflex. His coarse facial hair tickled your skin, making you giggle a bit as he continued to work his way down your form.

“Just wanna taste ya, okay?” Joel asked, his broad shoulders between your spread thighs. His thick fingers hooked into your panties, manipulating your legs so he could pull them off and toss them somewhere in the room. He pressed your legs apart before you could snap them shut, a seed of worry taking root in your mind as you looked down at him.

You’d never been so self-conscious during a hook-up before, but for some reason Joel felt different. Your thoughts were preoccupied on how you looked from his vantage point, if you smelled alright and if anything looked weird.

“Been wanting to taste you all night, ever since I saw you standing up there during that damn ceremony.”

He spread you apart with his thumbs, eyes focused on your already wet pussy as a smirk stretched across his features. He just stared, making you want to crawl back into yourself. Then the feeling of his tongue on your clit makes you forget your worries, your face scrunching as you moaned. Joel hooked your leg over his shoulder, your heel pressing against his back as he pushed your thighs even further apart.

You couldn’t remember a time when you’d been so soaked before, sticky arousal practically gushing out of you. Joel’s wide tongue licked long stripes up your cunt, careful to practically gulp down everything that he could. He was groaning as he ate you out, his big hands digging into your waist to pull you closer. The coarse hair of his beard was rough against the soft skin of your inner thighs

“Oh–oh god, Joel,” you sighed, propping yourself up on an elbow so you could look at him.

Your thighs were quaking, pressing against his ears as your hips twitched. Joel’s dark eyes were hazy and half lidded as he lapped over your clit, working with a focus you’d never experienced with any other man. He looked beautiful between your legs, belly-down on the mattress and still dressed in his button down shirt and slacks.

One of his hands left your hip, snaking up your stomach to reach blindly until he cupped your breast. He pulled at the cup of your bra, revealing your peaked nipple. The bud was immediately pinched between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch your back as you let out another whine of his name.

Joel dipped down to shove his searing tongue inside of you as his nose bumped into the swollen bead of your clit. A bolt of lightning ricocheted up your spine, a gasp leaving you. It felt so good you could almost cry, your chest heaving and hips clumsily grinding toward his mouth. You were already starting to tremble, pleasure sparking in the pit of your stomach as he mouthed at you.

And then he pulled back.

“Joel!” you yelped, starting to sit up as your gaze hardened into a glare. Your pussy clenched around nothing, neglected and empty with an interrupted orgasm.

He huffed a laugh, looking down at you as he knelt on the bed in front of you. “You’re right, baby, that’s my name,” he teased, his voice deep and smokey.

He grabbed you roughly by the hips, pulling so you fell to your back again. “You fucker–” Joel cut you off by pressing the backs of your knees until you were bent in half, a brief show of just how strong he was. His calloused hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, readjusting you again so the small of your back was propped up against his quads. You’d never been in this angle before, your pussy the highest point of your body as he pushed his forearms against your thighs to keep you still.

Joel’s hot breath washed over your cunt before he delved back into it, greedy as he started sucking on your clit. With the way you were contorted, you were completely helpless, any attempt to move your hips just made your thighs push uselessly against his arms. You were soaking, your arousal dripping down to your asshole as you whimpered pathetically.

He went at a leisurely pace, taking his time to tongue at you and lick long stripes from your perineum to your clit. Your hands were clenching in the white comforter on the hotel bed, your chest heaving. There was something about being completely at his mercy that made your head spin.

You wanted to be greedy, take everything he would give you; but, Joel was in no rush, languidly pressing his face into your pussy despite your best efforts to get him to speed up.

It was overwhelming in all the right ways, your head spinning as you watched Joel lick at you like he wanted to consume every part of you. Joel cupped your breast in a hand, strumming his thumb lightly over your nipple to keep it stimulated as you gasped.

You were delirious by the time he sunk two fingers into you, almost making you scream. Joel took a few breaths, his pink lips swollen and shiny with your arousal as he studied your expression. You could hardly think straight, strings of curses mixed with his name falling from your lips as you panted like a bitch in heat.

The squelching sound of his fingers lazily pumping into your pussy filled the hotel room, loud enough to make your cheeks burn. You wetted your lips, trying to catch your breath beneath Joel.

“So fucking tight around my fingers,” Joel mumbled, the words muffled and wet because he didn’t pull away. It didn’t even feel like he was talking to you, communing with your pussy instead. The praise went directly to your head, making you tighten around his fingers. You threaded a hand in his hair, keeping his mouth pressed against you. “Tastes just as good as I expected.”

“Oh… oh my god,” you breathed, your climax building toward its precipice.

Joel wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, just barely speeding up the rhythm of his fingers fucking into you. His thumb on your nipple followed suit, matching the motion as tears filled your eyes. Your fingers threaded into his curls, your brows furrowed as you pulled on his hair. He grunted against you, not letting up as he worked you up toward the edge.

When you came it was a whole body event. Your legs trembled, hips burning from the awkward angle Joel had bent you into. Your back arched, breath pausing in your chest. Your cunt clenched around his fingers, sucked tight and feeling every inch of them inside you. The pleasure was white-hot as it coursed through you, leaving your nerves buzzing and your ears ringing as your body went limp.

“So pretty when you come,” Joel said, his thick fingers still deep inside you.

You were almost nonverbal, your response a delirious sob as you looked up at Joel with watery eyes. He caressed your cheek, gently stroking your jaw and thumb wiping over your lower lip. You kissed the pad of it out of reflex, the motion making his expression soften for a moment.

Then he started to massage the spongy spot inside of your dripping pussy, making your eyes roll back. “Too sensitive,” you whined, grabbing onto his forearm in a weak attempt to stop him.

“Trust me, baby, I’ve got you,” he said in that syrupy tone, gaze still locked on your face as you squirmed. He took his hand away from your cheek, holding one of your legs to keep you still as he fucked his fingers into you. “You can do one more for me, right?”

The need to please him made you nod, taking in a deep and shaky breath. You couldn’t do anything but take it, your mouth dropping open and your back arching. The overstimulation made you tremble, your whole body squirming. Breaths kept huffing out of you, your brows pinched tight as you tried to relax. It was hard to think straight, hell, it was hard to even breathe.

Joel pulled his fingers out of you for a moment to strum over your swollen clit, only touching you with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. He continued until you were straining against him, moaning and sobbing his name. It was like he was carved from stone, hardly giving you any leeway as he kept you in place. The pressure in you built faster this time, it was almost embarrassing how quick he was able to get you to the edge.

“Joel, Joel, Joel–ohmygod,” you gasped, reaching for purchase against his thigh. His dress pants were soft under your fingers as you squeezed, your body practically vibrating.

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured soothingly, pressing a wet kiss to the back of your thigh as his fingers hooked back into you.

Joel fucked you on them at a ruthless pace as his thumb rolled over the crest of your sex, your mouth opening in a wordless cry as you fell into your second orgasm of the night. You were completely lost, your eyes squeezed shut as your muscles spasmed against the restraint of Joel’s arms. White noise filled your mind, your body melting against Joel’s thighs and the bed as your legs fell open even further.

He rubbed along the seam of your cunt soothingly, calloused fingers working you through the aftershocks. Your eyes were completely hazed when you looked up at him, splayed on the bed like every bone had been pulled from your body. He looked positively giddy, his wet fingers smearing on your thigh as he rubbed your legs in an effort to help you come back to yourself.

Joel let you off of him, returning your spine to the mattress as he leaned over you to give you a kiss. You hummed into it, smelling and tasting your salty-sweet slick on his lips and facial hair. “Please fuck me,” you begged between presses of his mouth, desperation easy to hear in your tone.

“‘Course I will, baby,” he said, getting off the bed to quickly undress himself. You shakily sat up, unclipping your bra at your back and tossing it aside.

Joel was impressive, his body rippled with muscles beneath a layer of fat that told you he was eating well. Your gaze dragged down him, mouth watering as you finally saw his cock. It was big, the same tanned tone of his skin with a flushed tip. It jutted from a patch of trimmed, dark hair that was accentuated by the happy trail beneath his navel. You swallowed thickly, pussy clenching at the thought of him fucking you into the mattress.

You kissed him eagerly as he got back on the bed, part of you so desperate to please him. Joel was older than you, so much more experienced, you just wanted him to like you.

He grunted, curling a hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. His other hand traveled down your body, massaging your hip with his thumb. You were putty in his hands, your own arms in a loop around his neck.

“Lay down,” Joel mumbled against the hinge of your jaw, nipping at the bone. You whimpered, fingers digging into the broad muscle of his shoulders as you complied. Joel ran a hand over you, sliding it down the valley between your breasts and over your soft stomach.

The backs of your thighs were pressed against his quads as he took himself in his hand, sliding the blunt head of his cock along your pussy. You clenched around nothing, desperate and wanting. “Joel, please.”

You couldn’t take waiting anymore.

He smirked, notching himself at your entrance and obliging you. Joel pressed and pressed and pressed until his hips were completely snug against yours. He split you in half across the width of his cock, moving slow to give you some time to adjust. It felt like he’d consumed all of the extra space in your body, you even felt him in your throat.

You breathed brokenly, back arched and hips twitching as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You weren’t a virgin–weren’t anything close to it, really–but it felt just as overwhelming as your first time.

Joel bent over you, his elbows on either side of your head carrying his weight as he ground his hips against yours. His forehead pressed into your shoulder, a heated groan rumbling from his chest. It was hard to make sense of things, rattled breaths filling your chest as your mind whirred uselessly. He peppered kisses over your face, his lips wet and warm as he showered you in affection.

Then he moved his hips, the roll of them slow and syrupy and making you nearly choke. You grabbed at his biceps, an attempt to anchor yourself to him as he started to rut his hips into yours. He made room for himself with every press of his cock, molding you to the shape of him.

Joel collected your leg with a rough hand, pushing your knee toward your chest. He let it come to rest in the curve of his elbow, palm pressed flat to the comforter as he spread you open wider. Your hips protested as he splayed you apart, the discomfort easily taking a backseat to your pleasure.

You keened, mouth falling open as he sank even deeper inside of you. Your breaths came out in little mewls, matching Joel’s grunts as you met each thrust with a weak roll of your hips. His lips were at your throat, sucking more marks into the skin and his facial hair scratching against you. “Goddamn, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” Joel groaned into the curve of your neck, still keeping an even rhythm

You let out a breathy laugh–you felt the same way about him. He lifted himself to get a better look at you, dark brown eyes as warm as the summer sun as his gaze drifted all the way down to where his cock was buried in you. He grunted at the sight, pupils dilating like drops of ink in water.

His free hand lifted off its elbow, his weight shifting to one side so he could wet the pad of his thumb with a lick of his tongue. You were making sounds you couldn’t control, each thrust pushing a small gasp from your throat. Then, Joel dropped his hand to your lower abdomen, gently tracing the curve of your belly down into the soft thatch of hair you hadn’t bothered to shave.

A calloused thumb found your clit, swirling over it with a confident pressure in a way that made your eyes nearly roll back in your skull. Joel was pounding into the spot that made you see stars, merciless in his pace. “Joel… oh god…”

You could feel the flutter of your orgasm starting, your legs trembled against his arm and the curve of his waist. You chanted his name like a prayer, overstimulated tears starting to squeeze out of the corners of your eyes and roll into your hairline. He just soldiered on, grinding his thumb over your clit as he worked you higher and higher toward the edge.

A rattling gasp escaped your throat as you pulsed around Joel, your brows pinching and your body stiffening beneath his. You could feel the release from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head, your nails digging into his thick biceps as the flickering pleasure turned into a full on forest fire. You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto the mattress with you as you held him close.

“Fuck,” Joel moaned into your neck. His thrusts became sloppy fast, his discipline gone to the wayside now that he made you come on his cock. You felt him twitch inside you, his breath coming out in hot huffs against the curve of your shoulder. His hand grabbed your hip, pulling you down to match his frantic thrusts as he moaned your name into your skin.

You wanted to pull his head away from you so you could see how his face looked when he finished. The muscles in his abdomen clenched, his hips grinding tight to yours as he came inside of you. You moaned with him, the feeling of being filled up by him satiating a need you didn’t know you had as you dragged your blunt nails on his scalp.

Joel finally collapsed, the weight of his body pressing down on you as you combed your fingers through his hair. His hips were cradled by your legs, sweat slicking your skin wherever it was pressed together. You breathed against one another, pulling each other close as you basked in the afterglow.

You were sharing the same air, pressing loose kisses to each other's warm skin as you melted into each other for an unknown amount of time. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours.

“We should clean up,” you finally breathed, able to come back to yourself.

Joel nodded against your neck, you felt it more than you saw it. You giggled after he didn’t move, still leaving you helpless and pinned beneath him. He seemed to make himself even more comfortable, arms constricting around you and face nuzzling closer to your throat.

“Joel,” you chastised, lightly shoving at his shoulder. It was half-hearted and meaningless–you were more than content to stay here all night if you had to.

“I like how you say that, Joel,” he said, mimicking your voice in an annoyingly high-pitched tone. It made you laugh, throwing your head back against the comforter as you shook it.

He hissed, pulling away from you just enough to prop himself up on an elbow. “You clench around me like a fucking vise when you laugh like that, baby,” Joel muttered, swirling his fingertips over your skin. He didn’t move to pull out of you quite yet, the two of you relishing in the intimacy of your embrace.

A slow smirk crossed his face, his dark eyes flickering back up to meet yours. “Plus, what’s the point of cleaning up if I’m not done with you yet?”

–

Needless to say, you were sneaking out of his room when the dregs of sunlight started streaming through the hotel room windows, sore and exhausted, with his phone number typed into your phone and his hickeys all over your skin.

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cranberryjuice-posts · 2 months

Text

-be still my foolish heart-

Pairings - Abby Anderson x fem! Teacher! Reader

Synopsis - rejoining the firefly’s has given Abby a chance to finally find love. Once she has she has no idea what to do with it.

An - HOZIER HOW I LOVE UR MUSIC

Cw - fluff to smut

Starting over wasnt easy. Anyone could testify to that.

Abby let out a deep sigh running a hand down her face. For the past year Abby had been readjusting to life, a former life she had long forgotten. Lev was helpful Sure but she didn’t know what to do with herself.

After becoming a firefly she had finally built up enough courage to admit that she herself was really only interested in Women.

But what made matters worse was you. Ever since that day in the infirmary where you helped Abby and lev recover You’ve just plagued the poor girls mind.

Washing her face Abby headed down stairs. Turning around the corner she almost fell, standing in the kitchen was you. Laughing with lev, coffee mug in and hand wearing Abby’s shirt— ONLY Abby’s shirt.

Looking over your shoulder you smiled at the blonde “morning, I made tea? Want some”

“Sure..” she mumbled walking towards the other side of the counter, where lev stood. You happily turned walking to the stove to pour Abby a glass.

With your back turned, abby grabbed levs hand dragging him into another room. “Why the hell is she here?!” She whispered yelled.

“She came by last night drunk, threw up on herself so I offered her one of your shirts I didn’t think it’d be a problem” he just shrugged his shoulders not really caring.

Abby however did. “Lev im going to beat your ass”

“It’s not That big of a Deal” lev continued on his stance, just as Abby was going to respond you called for her.

“Abby!” Turning around you saw Abby back at the kitchen counter, waiting like a puppy for your next command. “Here, Two spoons of sugar and a little cream. Just like how you like it” you smiled passing the mug over.

Abby just took the cup to her mouth not saying a word, secretly she preferred her tea without any additives that but she would never tell you. “I have a favor to ask” you tilted your head some to the side.

Abby perked up looking at you once more. “Yeah?”

“So, I know you use to be apart of some group before you came here and the teenagers that I teach are starting to want to get more responsibilities and with that they need to learn to fight. I was wondering if tomorrow you would come by and help me teach my lesson on the outside and how to fight the infected”

Abby kept quiet for a few moment. Mostly in awe that you wanted to ask her out of everyone else to help teach a class. Before she could respond lev did it for her. “She’ll be there” he spoke in his usual monotone voice while taking an apple off the table, leaving the room in the process.

Your shook your head finding lev to just be entertaining. “I got confrimation from your little assistant but I need a yes from you to”

“Yeah, I’ll do it sorry I just got lost in thoight” she tried to play her embarrassment off.

“Thankyou, your doing me a huge favor” you squeezed her arms gently. “I owe you one” you continued to Hold eye contact with her. Jesus fucking Christ Abby was down bad for you. She simply nodded watching as you to left most likely to get a change of clothes.

Now standing alone in the kitchen Abby looked down at her light tea and mentally debated on how to make a good impression tomorrow.

————

Nervously Abby stood in-front of the school house. Letting out a deep sigh she walked in, seeing your back facing her she took in your appearance.

Your natural hair pulled back with a bow, paired with a pair of bellbottoms that showed off your ass and a button down. Turning around finally you waved at Abby.

Making your way over to her you hugged her sweetly. “Thank you again, really I couldn’t do this without you”

“Don’t worry about it” she gave you a half smile back, admiring your body one final time she let you drag her towards the center of the class room.

Soon the class started to fill up, more and more kids coming in until all 15 of them were seated. “Good morning everyone” You smiled causing them to say it back.

“Today we have a Special guess Ms. Anderson, now I know you all want to go out and fight Infected and help keep us all safe so I had her come in today to help teach you all how to properly take care of not only your community but also the infected outside”

The way you held yourself and instructed your class honestly made Abby’s heart soar. Just how confident yet humble you were honestly made you more attractive in her eyes. Once you finished your speech you turned to Abby, allowing her to have the floor.

She awkwardly shifted in her spot not sure how to start. “Um.. hey, so like Ms.LN said uh I’m here to help I guess teach you all about infected.”

Once her sentence ended the entire class erupted into chaos questions with a new one shouted after the other. Stepping in and calming them down a kid named Liam raised his hand. “Is it true you almost killed a pregnant woman?”

“I uh” Abby stumbled on her words. “I highly doubt that has to do with killing infected”

“Liam, this is your last warning one more time and I’m having a talk with your mother” your threat only made the boy cower and Abby become flustered.

Calming her nerves she sighed, the important thing right now was to at least impress you. “I’ve killed people. I’ve killed infected and I’ve hurt alot of people.. a lot of them—

— and I think that’s it, unless you all have questions” Abby finally asked after her lecture. A few kids raised their hands asking important questions. The spotlight ended though once the bell rang.

“All-right everyone thats it, get out Go to lunch” You playfully yelled, saying goodbye to your students giving each their own smile. As the last one left you sat down on your desk, leaning on to Abby who still stood beside it. “They all like You”

“You think” she asked trying to ignore the growing blush on her cheeks.

“Yeah.. I know it” You mumbled taking her hand into yours. Kissing the back of her hand softly you rubbed her knuckles. “You’re coming to the party tonight right?”

Abby looked down at you embarrassed. “I mean I can, I know lev wants to go because he has this crush on a girl but I really wasn’t planing on going”

You kept quiet for a moment still holding her hand. “Well then if you’re not going, could I come by tonight and keep you company?” You sweetly asked.

If her face could of gotten redder it would of. “Yes!” She spoke a little to quickly causing you to laugh. “I’ll see you tonight Abby” you smiled looking up at her with a sense of admiration.

She nodded, awkwardly leaving the school house making you giggle.

————

You sat outside rocking gently on the swinging bench on Abby’s porch. The light from the party happening at the tavern light up the neighborhood.

“You like marshmallows right” Abby asked as she joined you on the bench, passing the cup of hot coco. You smiled taking the cup, taking a sip you let the sweet drink pass through your body.

Letting out a sigh of satisfaction you faced the blonde again. You took the quilt off your body passing it over Abby’s as well, wanting to share the body heat.

“So” you started, turning to face Abby. “You’ve been here for a year now, your hair has grown out into a cute bob and you’ve put half the men here to shame with your muscles.. so I have to ask Ms. Anderson, do You like someone?”

Abby sub consciously reached to her hair that rested just bellow her chin, she normally kept it in a bun though tonight a few strands weren’t wanting to cooperate. She cleared her throat not sure how to respond. “I guess so” she managed out. “I mean I do like this girl but I doubt she’d like be back”

“And Why’s That” You asked leaning into her. “And it’s a girl? Is this you coming out to me Abby” you softly teased.

“Shut up” she chuckled. “Yes it’s a woman and yes I guess technically this is me telling you I like women, more then men at least”

“And Why do You think she doesn’t like you?” You set your cup on the table in front of you before laying your head on your arms on the back of the bench.

Abby just sighed. “Well for starters shes Just beautiful, I mean really she’s just… wow— you know” she smiled sweetly at her mug.

“Yeah?” You playfully flirted.

“Oh yeah, I mean she’s just astonishing, and the nicest woman I’ve ever met. She holds herself with such confidence and grace that honestly she was probably royalty in another life” Abby continued with a foolish smile that was eventually replaced with a more remorseful look. “But I did some not so ok stuff in my past, and if she found out I don’t think she could ever look at me the same”

“Like What?” You asked not thinking that it could be any worse than anyone else. “We’ve all killed people abs, whatever you did it couldn’t of been that bad”

Abby hesitated, to tell you meant telling you all the bad shit she’s done. Closing her eyes she let out a deep breath before speaking.

“I beat a man to death with a golf club because he killed my dad and took away the only man who could of made a cure for the infection then his brother and some girl came after me, killed all my friends. I slept with my friends boyfriend, I shot the brother of the man I killed and beat the girl almost to death, I almost killed her pregnant girlfriend and shot this guy who was with them then I left the group I was with at the time and ran away with lev”

The silence was over whelming. She squeezed her cup in shame regretting even opening her mouth. The silence was replaced however with laughter. Finally looking up Abby looked over seeing how you laughed like nothing happened.

You continued to silently giggle before leaning your head back, looking over at Abby you gave her a dumb smile. “Really? That’s it?”

She just looked at you confused. How could you be so laid back after she told you something so traumatic. “Abby why would I ever care about you killing someone? So what you killed a man that killed your dad, sounds fair. You also got vengeance for your friends, again sounds fair; though the sleeping with your friends boyfriend I’m not sure about that”

Abby felt her face turn red. Looking back down embarrassing she fumbled her words trying to explain. “Look it wasn’t like that, we dated when we were kids and it ended messily. We got into an argument and were just mad at each-other and the only way to express our feelings was through actions, I regretted it and it was honestly shit I hated it the entire time”

“Well as Long as you regret it then I guess there isn’t a problem” you chuckled, leaning over you tucked a stray strand of Abby’s hair behind her ear.

Subconsciously Abby felt herself leaning into you, she held her breath- not wanting the moment to end. You followed her lead tilting your head into hers.

After a short second you smiled “just kiss me already” the was the last thing spoken before Abby crashed herself into you.

Her hands instantly finding themselves on your hips and in your hair, wanting to ground herself in anyway she could. A years worth of sexual and romantic tension building up being poured out all into one kiss.

In response you picked your body up, leaning into Abby you pressed yourself against her, slowly making your way into her lap. With your knee between Abby’s legs and the once heavy quilt now falling off you both you pulled away. Breathing heavily with your lips still close you muttered against her skin “wanna take this inside?”

She quickly agreed following your lead inside, leaving everything else behind the only thing that mattered was having you both against each other. With the door shut you locked your hands into Abby’s hair, kissing her once again.

While the messy kiss continued the stronger woman helped lift you off the ground causing you to wrap your legs around her waist. With her hands on your Ass abby carried you upstairs and to her room.

Once there she gently tossed you on the bed. With how much she’s had to hear about your hookup story’s and how you wish they’d man handle you more often she had a fake sense of confidence going through her body.

You threw your shirt aside, quickly making due with the bra. The confidence broke once Abby realized this was her first time with a woman. Her first time really ever since Owen. Wanting to curl up in embarrassment Abby looked away from your breast.

You laughed noticing her shyness and the distant look of doom. “Don’t worry.. it’s not as difficult as you think” pulling her down by her shirt you gave Abby a gentle, reassuring kiss. “We’ll take it slow”

Abby just nodded, shaking the feeling away she slowly stripped off her shirt, trying to hold the intimate eye contact.

Both taking turns, each stripping out of their clothes until you both were naked all while holding eye contact. You ran a hand up Abby’s chest, giving her sensitive breast a gentle squeeze she moaned, deep and raspy.

“You make me feel good baby and I’ll make you feel like nothing else exist” you mumbled while kissing Abbys neck. She moaned in response, laying on the bed she started to kiss and grab down your body. Every piece of skin that she could touch she loved. From your collarbones, nipples and to your stomach she sweetly kissed.

You took a hand, lacing it into Abby’s now messed up hair. Once she reached between your thighs she was already on her knees admiring what laid between.

“God” she groaned tucking her face into your plush thigh. Kissing it softly she slowly made her way towards your soaking cunt. Your stomach tensed, the teasing feeling of her lips dragging across your skin only riling you up more.

Moving her head towards your core by her hair you let out a small whine. “Please”

You opened your eyes to look down at her, she hadn’t even touched you yet but she was already so pussy drunk. You loosened your grip on her hair as she finally brought herself to you.

She gave a kitten lick on your swollen clit, slightly insecure of her skills before actually placing herself onto your sensitive skin.

Slowly sucking on the bud Abby kept the eyecontact with you, feeling herself getting off with the faces and noises you made. Without realizing it she slid two fingers into you.

“Oh fuck, Just like That Abby” Your stomach tensing up as your chest followed your rapid breaths. You clamped your thighs around Abby’s head not sure how much more you could take. Moaning her name you started to grind your hips on her face. The smell of sex quickly over taking your senses.

With your eyes shutting and your back arcing pushing your cunt onto Abby’s tongue, chasing your high; your legs started to shake as your orgasm crashed over your body.

Relaxing and allowing Abby to pull away from you, you looked down at her with a slight chuckle. Her face red and her pupil’s dilated. “You look beautiful” You smiled tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’re one to talk” she grinned in response, kissing you, the taste of yourself in her tongue taking over. You sat up moving back towards the bed frame before laying down again.

“Here” you gestured to your lips. Both still breathless, Abby looked at you confused until it hit her what you were signaling.

It was cute how nervous she was. Straddling your body she bent down giving you a kiss. You let out a muttered moan wrapping your arms around her. While you gently rubbed Abby’s body you helped move her up towards your lips.

Letting her grab the headboard you forced her hips down. Abby was sweet, sweeter than you expected. Her small whines and grunts made you feel like you were going insane. She was just perfect.

You ran your tongue in rhymathic circles, squeezing Abby’s thighs wanting to bring her closer if it was even possible. Her moans. Her taste. Her skin. Everything about her was perfect.

You could tell she was close, from how she gripped the board to her scrunched up face. Her moans becoming louder up until the point she held her head back.

Abby was inexperienced it was obvious from her body language, her finishing faster than you would of thought was kind of expected.

Trying to help brace her body while she came down from her orgasm you helped Move her beside you, you both just looked at one another not wanting the moment to end.

Giving her a subtle kiss on the cheek you sat up, letting out a deep breath you smiled down at Abby who was softly rubbing your arm. You could of gone for a few more rounds but Abby really just wanted to lay down. Maybe another time

After making a shower for you both and getting a drink you laid on Abby’s chest, enjoying how her stronger arms made you feel secure. Softly kissing her neck you smiled against her skin. “I love you Anderson”

Though you weren’t looking at her you could tell her face was red. “Yeah— I uh i love you to” she managed back, her arm growing tighter around you.

#lesbian #wlw #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #tlou fluff #tlou smut #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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disasterofastory · 7 months

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Yours (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

Yours // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 8/14 Warnings: virgin!Brahms

Summary: You want a special night with Brahms.

"Can you do that, Brahms?" You ask him for the second time when, instead of answering your previous question, he pouts at you with a slight, moody wrinkle between his brows. "Can you promise you won't spy on me for a few hours?" The corners of your lips twitch as you listen to your own words. You can't even imagine what other people would think of Brahms or you if they heard you right now. Or any other time. "But why?" His voice is higher with a couple of octaves than before. His hands on your waist tighten while you keep your arms around his lean waist. "Because I want to surprise you," you tell him. "It's just a few hours, Brahms. Please." His chest stretches with a heavy sigh. "Fine." "Great!" You squeak out, reaching up for his neck to pull him down for a quick kiss. "You won't regret it." It's funny you say that; Brahms already feels the regret eating at him when you disappear upstairs.

You have been waiting for this day ever since you decided to stay with Brahms. Well, you like to think you had a choice in the matter. You had doubts when he dragged you into the shower with himself the first time, but after the first kiss you shared, you knew it for sure. He has no experience with women and intimacy. You weren't even surprised. The man lived most of his life behind the walls of Heelshire manor. In the beginning, he had barely any idea what to do or how without your guidance. It was fine, though. You love the power you had over him and his pleasure. You built him up patiently and softly. And today, if he is okay with it, you are ready to take the next step. You are surprised he hasn't initiated it yet. Brahms has no patience when it comes to what he wants, and you learned it rather quickly.

So, you take the first step.

You start with your room after making sure Brahms doesn't lurk behind the walls. You gather more pillows and blankets, adjusting them on the bed to your liking. You even go and unpack the lights you ordered since Brahms is not really comfortable around fire. You put the lanterns and fairy lights all around the room until you are satisfied with the result. By the time you are done, it's already dark outside, and your room looks like a cozy nest with dim lights and the scent of fresh strawberries because of the tray of snacks and drinks on the bedside table.

You are really satisfied when you leave your room to get Brahms, who is already in the living room with his mask on. You can't help but frown at the sight of him. "What's wrong, honey?" You ask him softly, cradling his face in your hands as he accepts you stepping between his legs. His warm palms find their way to the back of your thighs immediately. When he doesn't reply, you continue. "Do you not want to see my surprise? Do you want to do something else?" He shakes his head.

Ever since you earned Brahms's trust, the man avoids wearing his mask around you as much as he feels comfortable without it. By now, you only see it on him when something is wrong.

Biting your lip, you think through your next step. "Do you want to take a bath with me? Bubbles and everything." Finally, he nods. "Good," you smile at him, taking one of his hands in yours to link your fingers together. "Come, then." He follows you up to his room like a lost puppy, watching you prepare his bathroom without a word. "You can take off your clothes," you tell him, glancing at his towering figure over your shoulder when you check the water's temperature for the last time.

You didn't share your plans with Brahms, but maybe he can feel it in the air. He knows something is coming, and you want to give him the chance to say no. "You know," you start. "We can watch a movie, too. Or I can read." Both of you are in the bathtub, enjoying the warmth of the water. The air is heavy with steam and the scent of the bathbomb you used. The water is green and glitters a little under the light of the lamp hanging from the ceiling. "No," he says. The porcelain of his mask is cold on the side of your face as he rests his head on your shoulder. His arms are around you while your back is against his broad chest. His hands are cupping your breasts, just holding them for his comfort. "But you can change your mind at any second, okay?" You ask him. "What is our safeword?" "Doll." "Good boy," you praise him, reaching behind you to pet his hair.

You take your time in the bathroom, making sure to wash his worries away until his body is relaxed in your hands. You massage his shoulders, caress his chest, and play with his curls while he lets you pamper him until the water is almost cold and you have to get out. "Do you feel better?" You ask him, leading him out of the room with his hand in yours. "Yes," he replies. He still wears his mask, but you don't mention it. You know he will take it off when he is ready. "Did you change your mind? We can go to sleep, too, baby." "No. I want to see your surprise." "Okay, love," you smile at him soothingly.

You step into the room first so you can see Brahms's reaction. You know it's nothing fancy or grand, but you want to make him feel comfortable and cared for. Even after all the things you did together and with each other, you want to make his first time special.

Brahms doesn't even know how to feel at the sight of your room. He can see the pale face of the moon through the window above your bed, which is full of soft pillows and warm blankets. Small lights hang from here and there, mixing with the dim glow of the lanterns. He had never seen anything so inviting and comfortable.

"What do you think?" You ask him after a while. Your heart thuds against your ribcage since you can't see his expression. "I love it," Brahms answers, caging you in his arms to pull you to his body. His chest is still bare, and your fingers rake through the soft hair. "I love you." "I love you too," you grin at him, kissing the cold lips of his mask. "Do you want to lay down a little?" You ask him. "We have snacks." Brahms follows you to the bed, resting his large body among the soft fabrics while you put the tray in the middle between your bodies. He still feels amazed because of everything you did for him. "Comfortable?" You ask. He nods. "Thank you." "Anything for my baby," you grin at him cheekily just to lighten the mood. "I'm glad you like it, though. And I'm proud of you for keeping your promise." "How do you know?" He asks, pushing his mask away a little to eat some grapes. The fruit pops under his teeth, flooding his mouth with its sweet taste. You shrug, not knowing how to answer. You just know it. Brahms became such a deep part of you that you simply feel him whether he is around you or not. But you are right, though. Brahms wanted to respect your wishes even if it drove him bad most of the day while he waited for you. "Do you want me to read you?" You ask him. "Just a few pages." Even though he is much more relaxed than before, you can still notice his fidgetiness. "Please." So you read him for a while, letting the remaining tension leave his body as he almost melts on the bed. Every now and again, you have to glance at him to check if he is still awake.

"Come here," he says when you pause for a second. "I want you close." Putting away the book, you crawl up on him to straddle his hips. "Do you feel better?" You ask him, playing with the hair on his chest. Your thumbs rub over his nipples a few times. "Yes," he hums, watching you. His shirt is big on you, but he can see the soft line of your breasts and the pretty pebbles of your nipples. He is already pulling on the fabric to get rid of it, but you stop him. "No," you say, and he can't help but be surprised. You never say no when he wants your tits. "What?" "I said no," you tell him. "We will learn new things today, Brahms." He doesn't like it but keeps quiet. You already did so much for him. "I know patience is not your strong suit, but we will work on it today." Oh, no, just not on my patience, he thinks, grimacing under his mask. "And we will learn about building," you grin. You don't have to see the man's face under you to know he doesn't like what you say. "Do you trust me, Brahms?" He nods without thinking. You are the only one in the whole world he fully trusts. "Then believe me when I say you will like it." He nods again.

Brahms watches you with interest as you grab a strawberry from the tray. The fruit is red and ripe. "Do you want to take off your mask?" You ask him. When he shakes his head, you continue. "Then push it out of the way a bit." He can do that. He lets you feed him fruit after fruit while he stares up at you the whole time. He is surprised at how intimate the act is despite its innocence. "Good boy," you break the silence after a while. "Now, the next step." You can feel his body tense under you with anticipation. Putting another strawberry in your mouth, you lean on his chest to reach his lips. For a second, Brahms just stares at you, not knowing what to do before smoothing his hand on your hips and accepting the fruit from your mouth. Both of you munch on it until your lips meet in a soft kiss. The edge of his mask pokes your face, and you want to take it off and throw it as far as you can but decide against it. It has to be Brahms's choice. "Do you want another one?" You ask him. Your words brush over his lips, and he wants another kiss but nods anyway. Repeating your previous actions, you stay capturing his lips with your own. You let yourself taste the fruit on his lips, licking into his mouth with a satisfied hum. Brahms's nerves are on edge as he lies under you, holding onto your hips while you play and tease him. He barely has time to deepen the kiss when you back away to nibble on his bottom lip, biting into the soft flesh softly and soothing the slight pain with your tongue. "Y/N," Brahms says your name with a dreamy sigh as your lips trail down on his bearded jaw and hairy chest. Your tongue flicks over one of his nipples, and he gasps at the new sensation. "Oh!" "Did you like it?" You grin at him, caressing his abs. He is warm under your palm and curious fingertips. "Yes," he grunts. The curve of your lips widens when you see him reaching up to his mask to tear it away from his face and letting it drop next to the bed. "And here is my handsome boy," you croon. "Hey." His heart flutters and the shade of his cheeks darken under your appreciative gaze. "Hey." You lean up to kiss him again, letting him dominate the motion for a few seconds. Your bottom still rests over his crotch. His erection twitches and throbs every time you rub against it as you move. "How are you feeling, Brahms?" You ask him while peppering his face with small pecks. His fire-marred skin is rough under your lips. "Good." Brahms stays with the easiest answer when he can't find the right words. He is excited and hungry for you, but at the same time, he feels soft, and his heart could burst out at any moment because of all the things you make him feel. Your nails crawl over the front of his body, sending goosebumps all over his skin as you move down until you hoover above his knees, and your face is level with the obvious tent in his pants.

The world starts to spin around Brahms with you in the focus when you tug on his pants, and his cock springs free. His desperate grunt is loud in the quiet room when you hold him in your hand and stroke up on his shaft. "I want to see you," he says breathlessly. For a second, you want to deny him but decide otherwise. Quickly, you get rid of his shirt while you stay bare on top of him.

You are so beautiful, he can't even breathe. Your skin looks soft under the dim lights, and every dip and curve of your body seems to beg for his touch. His palms tingle with the need to reach out for you. And he does. A moan escapes your lips when he sits up a little to knead one of your breasts. His thumb runs across your skin, following the curve of your flesh before rubbing over your nipple. "I want it in my mouth," he breaks the silence again, hoping you will give in to his wants once again. "Not yet," you shake your head. "I want to prepare you first." He feels prepared enough, though but can't argue when he chokes on his own saliva when you focus your attention back on his cock. For a long second, he hears nothing but the ringing of his ears as you stroke up and down on his length. Your thumb follows the line of one of his bulging veins until you reach the tip. "You are so pretty," you hum under your breath, still teasing the bulbous head of his cock. You can feel him throbbing in your hold. Brahms's chuckle is breathless and hoarse. "Me or my dick?" You grin. "Both. And you taste good, too." The man saw you take him in your mouth several times already, but the sight of his cock disappearing between your lips is still mesmerizing. You are warm and wet around him. Your tongue is flat against the underside of his shaft. "Y/N!" He gasps out your name, tightening his hold on the blankets around him. Black dots dance in front of his eyes as you suckle on him, gathering his pre-cum on your tongue to gulp every now and again. You take your time, though. You don't chase him to his orgasm, and he never imagined suffering so sweet.

A desperate whimper escapes his closed lips when you move away from his cock. He wants to cum so badly. "It's okay, Brahms," you coo, smoothing your hand over his chest. "You will get your reward for being so patient." The man watches with wide eyes as you settle back above his crotch. Your pussy is nestled against his cock, soaking him with your juices. Something curls in his stomach with anticipation as he stares at the motion of your hips. You rock back and forth, letting your wet heat slide over his cock repeatedly. The tip of his cock nudges your clit every time. "How do you want me, Brahms?" You ask him, panting. The slow pace you set is hard on you, too. Your pussy aches, and your walls flutter with need. After all these months, you want him inside you. Brahms's lips open, but no word comes out. His mind does not want to work. "Do you want me to stay on top?" You ask him. "Or you want to change position?" "Top," he grunts. Your hips rock and twist the whole time. "You." "Okay, baby," you nod.

Lifting yourself from his lap, you still hover above him with your hand between your legs this time. You slide your fingers over your pussy, rubbing your clit for a few seconds before pushing into your hole. A relieved sigh leaves your lips at the familiar stretch, but it's not near enough. You finger yourself above Brahms while the man can do nothing but grip the fabrics around him to keep himself from cumming. At this point, you don't even care about the slight pain you cause yourself. You add another and then a third finger until you are sure you are prepared enough to take his cock.

"Okay," you break the silence, mostly talking to yourself. You need several deep breaths to push down the impatience crawling up your spine. You want it soft and gentle, and if you lose your head, it will be anything but. "Are you ready?" You ask Brahms, glancing at his face. His eyes are glassy, and his lips open. Sweat sticks his curls to his forehead. "Yes," he grunts. "I want you, Y/N." "Good, love." Your smile is shaky. "I want you too." You never wanted anything so much in your life.

A heavy groan is punched out of him when he feels your entrance at the tip of his cock. Your hold on his shaft is steady and firm as you press him into you. You slide down on his slick cock inch by inch, enjoying the pressure in your walls and the way he slowly fills you up. Brahms doesn't even dare to breathe. He just lies under you, watching his cock disappearing in your tight hole. The noises escaping his throat are a mix of groans and whimpers. You are warm and wet around him, squeezing his cock all the way to the base. "How do I feel?" You ask, sitting on him with his whole cock in you. Your question is shaky. At this point, Brahms can't form words anymore. His brain is a mush of pleasure and need in his head. You envelop him tightly. He can feel himself rubbing against your inner walls as you start to rock your hips. They are small movements, but fireworks spark behind his closed eyelids at the feeling. A throaty groan is the only answer you get from him. "You can cum anytime you want, baby," you tell him, watching a vein bulging on his neck as he clenches his teeth together. "No," he growls, slipping his hands to your waist for a squeeze. He wants to feel your pussy when you cum around him. "But please," he continues, gasping. "Move!" To give some weight to his words, he grinds deep inside your wet hole. He reaches every nerve and every spongy spot that steals your breath away. "Fuck!" You wheeze, pushing down against him as you begin to rock back and forth on him more rapidly while his cock twitches and throbs.

"Brahms!" You cry out his name, bracing yourself on his chest as you lift yourself a little and drop back on his cock again. "Fuck!" You both groan at the same time. The man's hands slide up to your tits, palming and kneading your soft flesh. He works on you mindlessly, rubbing and pinching your nipples in reflex. "Again!" He demands, and you repeat your movement several times until you bounce on his cock with his hips pushing up in rhythm into your pussy. You can see as his stomach tightens and your juices soak the trimmed hair at the base of his shaft.

You feel light and drunk on his cock. Your eyes are half closed, and your limbs shake as you force yourself to move. Your pussy squeezes around the grith of Brahms's cock, wanting it to stay inside you until he floods you with his seed. Brahms wants that, too. There are moments as you grind to each other that he is sure his dick will fall off because of the way you work on him. There are no thoughts behind his teary eyes as he stares at you, moaning and groaning. His hold on your breasts is painfully tight, but you have no mind or energy to stop him as he slides in and out of your drenched pussy.

Your vision blurs as you gasp for air. "I'm gonna- I'm-" Your toes curl in pleasure, and the burning coil in your stomach snaps in two. Your pussy flutters around his cock as you reach your climax, still bouncing and rocking. You cry in ecstasy as you fall into a deep spiral, twitching and jerking. Pleasure flares in your veins as you fall apart on his erection while he bucks into you deeper. You can't even tell anymore where your moans end and where his groans start. Your walls clamp around his cock while he empties himself inside of you. Hot spurts of cum fill your hole, and every shot makes you tremble and cry some more.

Brahms's cock still jerks and twitches inside you when you go limp on his body. Your mixed juices flow out of your pussy, soaking his balls and the sheets on the bed. Your muscles burn, your pussy aches from the stretch, and your limbs tingle. And while you fight with your heavy eyelids, Brahms has to learn how to breathe again. His chest heaves under you, and a low groan escapes both of your lips when you lift yourself from him and let your body fall close next to his. "How do you feel?" You pant. "Fuck," he groans, holding your thigh in his hand. You are soft and sweet against him. You grin. "I'm glad." You want to put away the tray that is still on the bed behind you, but there is no way you can move.

"Thank you, Y/N," Brahms breaks the silence after a while. "It was… I just…" "I love you, too, Brahms," you hum, cupping his cheek and raking your finger through his thick beard until both of you fall asleep in each other's arms.

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms heelshire smut #the boy x reader #the boy imagine #kinktober 2023 #slasher fucker

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yourstruly-caycay · 13 days

Text

A "Loving" Husband

Yan! Poseidon x reader

Woo! My first time writing a yandere version of a character, and for the first time in forever I post something ehe.

Warning: yandere behaviour incoming

Synopsis: Poseidon never have any intention to tell Atlas, his son, about the inside of the golden door under the deep sea within the darkness. But, out of impatient and curiosity, Atlas bound to uncover the secret.

....................

The curious little boy finds himself in front of a huge golden door, a shiny one as it shines by the glimpse of the moon. He checks his surroundings once more to make sure he doesn't hear any doorstep near him as the window shows a scenery of the darkness of the sea. He sighs in relief as he's ready to find the answer that his dad has been avoiding to answer, “If this door is in this deep underground, what could dad possibly hide?”

He tries to push the door, he keeps pushing to the point his face and hand turns red. “I can open it!” He courage himself as it finally opened a little bit, small enough to fit his size.

“Ha! Dad must be proud if he knows that I can open a door this heavy.” He pat his back proudly as he goes through the door. The inside of the room is exactly as he questions it, a room full of old neat treasures and artifacts on the shelves. Out of all the treasure he saw, he spotted something bigger. A beautiful and shiny marble statue of a life-sized woman sitting on a couch with a lot of jewelry on her and white silk dress, but he notices that the clothes at the waist part are ruffled, as if that part has always been touched.

"Hmm, why does the ring seem familiar?" To get a better sight, he climbed to her thigh and sat on her. Observing the ring closer, he remembered the very same pair of rings in his dad's finger.

“But why is it on the statue? I thought mom was supposed to wear this? Perhaps I should try to give it back to her.” Carefully, his eyes focus on taking off the ring from the finger without realizing that his feets slip from the statue's silk dress as he’s hanging by the ring finger.

Unfortunately, the ring finger cracks as his head knocks onto the floor. He rubbed on his injured head, displeased seeing the gold blood on his hand from the injured head. However, the feeling of pain is replaced by panic as he closes his mouth when he sees the ring finger shatter from the statue. In a speed, he grabs the statue's ring finger and sprints all the way to his room.

…

By the next morning-

"WHY DO YOU NEED TO BE ANGRY JUST FOR A MISSING PART OF A STATUE?"

The boy jolted up from the sudden loud voice outside his room, he immediately opened the door. His heart beats fast and eyes go wide seeing his father and mother arguing in the hallway with Hades and some staff hidden in the corner or running away because they’re too scared at the sight of Poseidon.

"WHY? I'VE WARNED EVERYONE IN THIS CASTLE NOT TO ENTER THAT ROOM EXCEPT FOR ME, BUT A HIDDEN INSECT SEEMS TO HAVE BROKEN INTO THAT ROOM! I’LL FIND THE FOOL AND SHRED THEIR HANDS."

"BUT THAT DOESN'T EXCUSE YOUR SUDDEN OUTRAGE LIKE A MAD MAN."

“You insolent women-” Before Poseidon’s trident even near Amphitrite, Hades held his wrist and said in a stern voice. “Poseidon, calm down,” His eyes now turn to glare at him, but Hades still has the stoic face and staring back at him, “It’s just a statue, I don't know what's so special about that. But, if you’re still determine to punish the culprit, do it, but don’t throw the blame to the wrong person.”

And so, he put his trident down, his breath steadier and turned back to his usual stoic face, yet eyes still glare at his brother, “Just a statue? That statue is a prize possession of mine, worthy of my time to care for it.”

Hades can only sigh and shake his head in disappointment, meanwhile Amphitrite opens her mouth to say something while holding in the trembling voice with knees getting weak pressing down her fear as she stares back at him. The trident might not pierce her at all, but the sharp wind from the trident is enough to cause a scratch of gold blood to flow from her face.

"You've got to be kidding me, Poseidon, everyone already fucking know that you're protective of that precious little statue of yours. I don’t know what’s so special about it, it might be more special than me, but have you even spared a little heart for your poor wife whom you married by your own choice? Why do you marry me if you never treat me like a wife?"

"Amphitrite," Poseidon said coldly, "Since when gods married for love? Just do your own job as a queen."

Poseidon is finally out of sight as Amphitrite clenches her fist, glaring at her husband's back. "Tch, what did the statue do to make you this crazy?" she mumbles.

"Amphitrite, I do apologize for his manners." Hades pats her shoulder as he sees her in a trembling state, she gazes at him with tears spilling from her eyes.

"There's no need to apologize," she wipes her tears, "It’s his fault… no, it's my fault. How stupid and naive I am to agree to marrying him in the first place. I thought that maybe… if I become a good wife; a good mother, then maybe he can at least show an ounce of love to me like any lover does… what did I do to deserve this?"

"Don't say that, it’s his fault for being immature."

"Immature?" she snapped at him, "No no no, it’s insanity. I saw it in his eyes, the possessiveness and madness when the part of the statue is missing, all for the sake of that? I don’t know how long I will have to bear this. I can slowly go insane too for centuries living in this lifeless marriage, Hades, especially when the son he so much loved is not my own blood-" She gasped and closed her mouth, Hades got caught off guard hearing it.

"What?" He holds her shoulder, “What do you mean? Didn’t Poseidon announce to the whole Greek pantheons about you bearing his child?” Amphitrite isn’t able to hold eye contact anymore seeing the confused but angry Hades.

"Mom..."Her heart drops dead as she turns in horror to see him trembling, the familiar uncomfortable expression when he has to witness the familiar scene many times.

"Atlas!" She runs to hug him, "Did you just see the fight? Oh, I'm so sorry to have you see that."

"Mom... what do you mean?"

"W- what is it?"

"So, you're not really my mom?" His eyes are getting glossier each time passed along with his red nose. "Then, where's my real mom? Did she abandon me?" The tears fall as his crying sound is getting louder making her feeling more guilty, she hugs him tightly and pat his blonde hair.

“No no, of course not my dear… she’s umm… she-”

“I believe me and him deserve an explanation from you, Amphitrite.” He glared at Amphitrite like a predator caged its prey, unable to let her run away from the problem. After a long uncomfortable silence, she takes a breath first and stands up to glance at him.

“You both deserve an explanation… but, promise me,” she continued, “Don’t tell Poseidon, at least not now, okay?” He nods as she leads them to Atlas’ bedroom and locks the door. She sits on his bed as she massages her head, trying to find the best words to explain while the two of them wait for her.

“I already knew Atlas when he’s only a toddler, I still remember the sight of Poseidon holding him…”

…

~The night before the wedding~

To her younger self when she was still a naive princess, who was once frightened by Poseidon’s first sight. The way he always ignores her or glares at her when she makes a mistake. Hundreds of insults and mockery threw at her, driving her to avoid him even more throughout years staying in Poseidon castle as his fiance because her father thought that it’s a “good thing” for her to get familiar with him before the marriage.

When she’s ready to go to sleep, relaxing her tense muscles before tomorrow's marriage, the sudden strange calming sound arouses her suspicion. She opens the doors and follows the sound. All the way to the bottom of the sea floors. She found the source of the sound from one of the rooms and opened the door a little bit. Her eyes went wide at such a beautiful sight of the cold tyrant of the sea showing a small smile toward the unknown baby, holding the sleeping baby with such a gentle touch while humming a calm deep lullaby with the moon illuminating him heavenly like an angel.

“Impossible, how can he be so cruel, yet gentle at the same time?” She mutter

“Women, what are you doing?” She jumped at his sharp tone, once warm turned icy in a split second. She slowly opened the door, welcomed by his unamused face. She clears her throat to not feel pressured by the awkwardness, “My apologies, Poseidon, I just happened to hear your heavenly lullaby from my bedroom, I can’t help but listen to it too.”

She glanced at the sleeping baby, a smile growing wide fighting the urge not to touch the cheek, “So, who’s this baby? He’s just as beautiful as you.”

“My son.”

Silence came again, as her mouth slightly opened and eyes wide in disbelief. Unsure what to even say, “S- so, you’ve married before, then?” she frowned when he kept silent, “Where’s your previous wife?”

“Passed away.” He said in the usual cold tones, but she knew underneath that there’s a slight crack and irritation as his gaze now turned to the moonlight. Of course she passed away, or else Poseidon wouldn’t even remarry. However, deep in her heart she knew there’s a small crack discovered he’s used to love a certain woman, and now the baby is the only thing left of that woman.

“Sorry to hear that,” she continued, “What’s the name of the baby?”

“Atlas.”

…

~the night after the marriage event~

It was a cold kiss, but she received it welcomely despite his expressionless face throughout the whole wedding, but it’s okay. “It’s really okay, he’s probably not used to me yet. One day he will!” She patted herself. Emerald eyes sparkled at the whole sea regions and the Greek pantheon of deities and nymphs congratulated them, isn’t this what she’s been dreaming of? Marrying a handsome prince and living happily ever after?

During night time where everyone has a great time of feast, smiling and chattering. While Poseidon were discussing with his brothers and several gods, Amphitrite was accompanied by Aphrodite and Persephone having tea together as the both of them enjoyed their little chats while she quietly listened.

“Dear Amphitrite sweetheart, may I ask why you would want to marry Poseidon? It’s clear as day that he’s hard to be swayed by love.” Amphitrie got caught off guard with Aphrodite's question, she rested her chin on her hand thinking the perfect way to explain it.

“Well, I’m aware that a god like Poseidon is difficult to read and likes to close himself off from everyone. I’m aware too that this is a marriage for political reasons, but time itself is impossible to read too, who knows it’ll take time for him to open up to me, and maybe I can fix him.”

Aphrodite giggled while pinching her cheek playfully, “Amphitrite, I hope you can keep your words, I’ll give you the best gift if you can win his heart.”

“Haha, to be honest, I’m used to being scared of him too, but when I saw him holding his son gently in his arm it’s like seeing part of the real him open up. How can I not want to win his heart and show his other good side to me too ?”

“Son?” Persephone gasped and stood in surprise causing everyone to look at them, “What do you mean he has a son?”

Suddenly, everyone is freezed, tons of eyes now peered at Amphitrtie who was surprised too at everyone’s new discovery. “I- I thought everyone know that he has a child-”

Suddenly Poseidon touched her shoulder and leaned her closer to him as he announced to everyone, “Yes, I do have a son… with her.”

Everyone including his brothers and her families are elated by the news, congratulating the couple as they continued the feast. However, Amphitrite snapped at Poseidon who’s still avoiding her eye contact, questioning his suspicious act… head feels dizzy as she frowned at the announcement. Suddenly, Zeus wrapped his arm around Poseidon and Amphitrite in joyous, “Congratulations on having a child! So it turns out you guys already did a dirty thing before the marriage, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“Congratulations, I anticipate meeting my nephew by tomorrow.” Hades shook his hand while laughing, yet despite the wonderful news, Amphitrite got left confused all alone watching the crowd in line congratulate them, leaving her deep in thought of her mind.

…

“Poseidon, what’s with all of this? I thought everyone knew about your son.” Amphitrite sat on bed facing Poseidon who’s changing his clothes to something more comfortable, once again avoiding eye contact with her. She clenches her fist when he has the nerve to ignore her question, “Not only that, but you LIED to them about him being my son in blood? What about your previous wife? How would she feel about this?”

“Don’t remind me about Y/n, Amphitrite.”

“Y/n? So that’s her name, huh? Don’t tell me that no one also knew about this Y/n.”

Another silent response made her more convinced, knowing this, she slowly moved away from him, his unreadable expression made her stomach twist. “Poseidon, why would you lie?”

What are you trying to hide?

“All you need to know is that I did all of this to keep her and Atlas safe from the gods’ eyes. If they ever discover the truth about them, I’ll gouge their eyes and shred their bodies to pieces where their mouth wouldn’t spread all over to other realm,” Amphitrite shiver at his calm tone, she felt her heart skipped a beat at his eyes finally made an eye contact, the eyes that threaten her as if a trident ready to strike her if she made a single mistake, “This include you too Amphitrite, just do your job as a queen and a mother, and I’ll turn a blind eye on you. Remember that this is a marriage that’ll benefit your family.”

…

“That’s all I know,” Amphitrite steady her breath as she lies her head down, feeling uncomfortable with the silence, “It’s true, ever since that, I wouldn’t dare to ask him about her. I- I don’t- I don’t know why my foolish self is still trying to love him despite his undying love for his previous wife.”

Tears spilled from her eyes, words unable to be formed as she cover her cry from them. “Why did I even keep pursuing?” She thought, but a sudden heaviness on her caught her off guard, uncovering her face to see Atlas hugging her.

“It’s ok, mom.” Amphitrite hug him back with more tears spilled, her heart melt knowing Atlas is still calling her mom despite the truth. However, Hades is still standing across from her as he Massages his forehead, still surprised yet angry, but at his foolish brother.

“Atlas, can you please change your clothes and go have breakfast? Your mother and I still have to discuss about… this…further through.” Atlas nods as he changes his clothes and unlocks the door to go to the dining hall, leaving Amphitrite and Hades alone in his room.

Hades approach Amphitrite to sit beside her as his hand tap on her shoulder, “I’m sorry to hear that… I never thought he would do that.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is. As his brother, I shouldn’t have been too lenient on him, he’s just using you for his own benefit.”Amphitrite shake her head, “It’s partly my fault too for not refused it and being naive, I was too scared by my own father,” clearing her throat as she jump to different topic, “But, about her…”

“Y/n…” Hades humm, “So she’s Atlas' biological mother, why does Poseidon hide her from everyone? Out of shame?”

“Shame?”

“Poseidon is a pride god, if he loves her that much, what makes him want to hide her in the dark? Have you ever suspected her identity and background?”

Amphitrite put her hand on the chin as she recalled her moment when she was in the library, however it put a frown on her face, “I have try to search about her in the library, yet no books have had a record about her, so for now I’m assuming that she’s not a goddess from this pantheon nor a nymph.”

“Not even a nymph? How did you come up with that assumption?”

“From Atlas of course, if Y/n is a nymph from certain creatures, he will have the appearance or characteristic of that creature, however none of it are in him.”

“Fair enough.”

“How about you? Does the name Y/n sound familiar?”

“That’s… the problem, it’s new and unfamiliar within this patheon nor any other places, never for eons have I ever heard that name,” Hades massages his head and sighs as the mystery causes a headache to him., sick of his brother’s antics, he stand up, “I will ask him right now, he’s the only one who knows the truth.”

Hearing this, Amphitrite immediately stand and holds his shoulder as she shakes her head, “Don’t! If you ask him he will immediately know I told you and will slaughter me,” she continued after steadied her breath, “Please, I’m not stopping you to research about her, but don’t directly ask him.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him about this too. He has been hiding this far too long, I’m disappointed at his oddly obsessive behavior-”

“Hades, your shoes.” Hearing her gasp, he looked down and froze, seeing the crimson blood seeping from under the bed all the way staining his shoes. He kneels, and looks under it to discover the missing part of the statue — the ring finger — feeling the hard rock texture, yet when he touches the bleeding part, he shivers from the soft rotten meat and bone texture.

“There’s a dead body of a mortal hidden inside a statue, how is it under his bed?” He frown, “Moreover, the ring on that finger-“

“It can’t be, that’s the same pair of rings that Poseidon has.”

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #anime #ror poseidon #snv poseidon #poseidon x reader #yandere poseidon x reader

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empressdede · 4 months

Text

Into The New Year

You & Jimmy find out how you’ll make it into the new year

Tagging: @whatdoeseverybodywant @theninthwonder @harmshake @gomussy @raya-hunter01 @jeyusos-girl @2-muchsauce

________________________________________

Y/N really did not want to go to her friends Into The New Year party, you weren’t in the mood to celebrate the holidays anymore, having to miss Christmas and staying on the road was starting to take a toll on you.

You missed home.

And you didn’t blame the other wrestlers for trying to party their life away to distract themselves from the same problems you were facing but you just weren’t feeling it.

“C’mon Y/N your the only one who’s gonna be stuck at the hotel feeling miserable. We get it, your homesick but your not the only one.” Rhea stated and the entire women’s locker room was agreeing with her.

“At least come. Spend 30 minutes and if you hate it, you can go back to the hotel room and we’ll leave it at that.” Your friend, Renee stated.

You didn’t want to argue about it anymore, and they were right, what was popping in for half an hour going to hurt?

So that is how you found yourself, getting ready with the girls and taking in the scenery of the girls dancing around it made you smile. Maybe this isn’t so bad. So you let the moment sink in and got out of your head to enjoy it with them.

________________________________________

The music was starting to take over and Y/N was starting to let go. Renee was persistent on making her feel better and damn if she wasn’t succeeding.

Y/N tossed a drink back, three shots in and let herself wine to the music.

“Okay girl, I see you.” Bianca had cheered and it brought a smile to her face.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Renee had convinced her to come because she had plans of her own. She made Y/N wear her best clothes and gassed her head up to dance her heart out because she needed her distracted. And the rest of the locker room had no problem getting on board to help distract Y/N.

“What are you waiting for?” Renee asked Jon. He’s been watching you all night, but he hesitated to make the approach because he refuses to make a fool of himself, even if nobody would remember it. He would and that’s not something he wants engraved in his head.

“What are you talking about?”

“I seen you been watching my friend all night but if you trynna make a move on her, it ain’t gon happen with you sittin’ over here in the corner.”

“Renee-“

“I threw this damn party for you! You know how hard it was to get Y/N to come out here?”

Jon let a small sigh, because she’s right. Everyone knew how much Y/N carried on her face how upset she was for the holidays and to see her out here was literally his one in a million chance.

“I wish Josh never told you about my small crush on her.”

Renee rolled her eyes. “Jonathan; even if Josh didn’t tell me, a blind man can see you like her.”

“Cap” he replied and that caused his brothers to laugh at him. Everyone knew he had a crush on her, he wasn’t as discreet as he thought he was being.

“Aye man, quit being a pussy and go dance with her. No disrespect, but allat ass she throwing, Go catch it!” Josh stated and pushed his brother towards your direction.

I guess it’s now or never Jonathan thought to himself as he walked over to you.

He watched you gyrate your hips on Bianca to Up Down by T- Pain, and he watched you caress her hands over your body as the both of you wined slowly against each other.

Black card (card) party in the backyard (backyard)

Shorty got the black bra showin’ (black bra showin’)

Tatted up (Tatted up) ass fat enough ('Nough)

She a bad bitch and she already know it (Yeah, she know it.)

Bianca seen him walking towards the two and she nodded him over so that they would be able to switch.

As the song melodies changed, Y/N bent over to twerk against Bianca and that was the perfect time for Jimmy to slide in when Bianca stepped back.

His hand gripped onto your hips and pulled you back into him repeatedly, the motion mimicking back shots. The tightness of the hands against your skin made you turn around to see who had trade places with Bianca and when you seen Jimmy behind you, you felt your heartbeat pick up.

The FINEST man on the roster was catching her back it up and she was not gonna let the opportunity slip through her fingers. The liquor running throughout her body gave her the courage to continue with the dance.

Whole bank account, I blow it (I blow it)

Go do a show then (Do a show then)

Bring some mo’ in (Bring some mo’ in)

Y/N’s hands were placed on her knees and continued to twerk against his hips. Bianca and Rhea who were the closest to the two watched the interaction and started to holler in excitement to hype you up.

As they gassed you up, you started to throwing it back on him so crazy. A hype crowd started to form around the two of you and any nervousness that the both of you had dissolved and the energy that began to transpire was what they fed off of.

“Aye! Fuck it up Y/N!” Renee hyped up as she watched you continue to bounce off him.

Throwin that ass for days

Booty going up, down

I ain’t got no problem spendin all of my money

Trynna see what’s up now

I can do this all day like it ain’t nuttin’

As the song ended, Y/N straightened herself and pressed her back against his chest as another song started to play.

“You mind if I steal you away for a second?” Jimmy whispered in your ear and who were you to deny him anything?

Your hands grabbed onto his that was still gripping onto your hips and lead him outside to catch your breath and give yourself just a little bit of privacy to talk.

The second they were outside, Jimmy let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re impossible you know that?”

You bit back a smirk as you turned to face him, tilting your head to side with faux confusion shining through your eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought we said that we didn’t want anyone to know about us?”

“WE didn’t say anything. You didn’t want anyone to know about us and I didn’t come to dance on you, you came to me Jim. So what’s really the problem?”

He stepped closer to you, “It’s starting to piss me off watching you shake ass for every dude in there.”

For almost seven months now, you and Jimmy have been sneaking around with each other to chase a high only the two of you can bring to each other. There was a point of time, you found yourself getting irritated that Jimmy kept flirting with almost anyone he could -even if it was playful- and he loved to remind you that it didn’t matter because he was single and so were you. After that, you made sure to keep anything you felt to yourself because when it was your turn, you didn’t wanna hear a word either.

“I’m single Jimmy.” You reminded him with a small smirk etched onto your face. “So it doesn’t matter if it pissed you off or not.”

“Wanna bet?” ________________________________________

A soft moan left Y/N’s mouth as her back arched off the bed, shivering from the kisses Jimmy was placing down her body. He was teasing her, making her really crave his touch.

His eyes stayed glued to hers as he continued his way down until he was facing exactly where he wanted to be, in-between her legs. He moved his head directly above her pussy and used his fingers to pull her panties to the side And separate your lips apart to blow air on your clit.

He hasn’t even touched you yet and you were soaked. You felt yourself tense up but quickly relaxed as his tongue slid up and down your clit.

"Oh fuck" you hissed in pleasure as your head fell back. Jimmy didn’t waste no time burying his face between your legs. He flicked his tongue against your clit in a premeditated way that he knew was going to make you cum fast. Jimmy didn’t want to wait to teach his lesson to Y/N, he needed you to recognize now just who you were dealing with.

He locked one arm around your thigh and pushed two fingers into you, thrusting his fingers in and out of you and pushed his face deeper, sliding his tongue up and down her slit.

"Fuck Jimmy…wait" you panted out, bucking your hips trying to run from the immense pleasure he was giving you but he wasn’t haven’t none of that. Your moan got stuck in your throat as your back arched off the bed and you tried to push his head away from you.

Jimmy pulled himself away from you for only a second, placing his lips back on your clit to suck on it as the pace of his fingers quickened.

"Ohhh shit Jimmy" you cried out and your hand slid to the bed to grip onto the sheets, this feeling was your favorite feeling in the world and it made Jimmy’s chest fill with pride when he felt your legs start to shake. He knew it was only him that could make you feel like this and he wanted to prove his point.

Your moans filled the air, growing louder and louder and it sounded like music to his ears. Jimmy didn’t give a fuck who heard you, he hoped they heard you because as you continued to call out his name he came up with his New Year’s resolution: letting the whole world know who made her feel like this.

Jimmy moaned against her, the vibrations caused you to slightly jump and it forced him to tightened his hold on you so you could stay in place and returned his attention to your clit, sucking on it hard as his fingers tapped against your g-spot. Your thighs started to shake even more, giving Jimmy exactly what he’s been chasing since he started. That quick release from you.

"Jimmmyyyy" You cried out loudly as you came in his mouth, clenching the sheets tightly. Your heart was beating so loud and fast and your head moved from to side as the euphoric feeling took over. "Fuckkkk."

Jimmy chuckled as he pulled away from you, giving you some time to catch your breath.

He hovered over your body, placing both his hands on both side of your head and leaned down to kiss you, sliding his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan as you tasted yourself on him. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his right hand moving to trail down your body and stopped at your panties. When you felt his hand, you lifted your hips to help him pull them off you.

Once they were completely off you, he pulled away from the kiss and pulled his shirt over his head. "Face down, ass up mama, don’t make me ask you again."

As you assumed the position, you heard shuffling behind you and you knew he was getting completely naked. Anticipation of whatever was come had you shaking with excitement. You loved with Jimmy got like this, you love pushing his buttons to have him give it to you better.

"This won’t stop me from giving Tez that dance you know?” You teased, a sultry tone in your voice.

Jimmy bit his lip as he stared at her deep arch and shook his head at her letting out a dark chuckle that caused you to shiver, "Damn baby, now I’m really finna fuck you up."

Your clit throbbed in anticipation and you gripped the sheets to prepare the insertion, and no matter how much you guys have done this over the past seven months, nothing could’ve prepared you for the feeling of him slowly pushing into you, stretching you out and filling you up.

"Shit"

"Oh my fucking Go-" you gasped, pushing back to break your arch just a bit but Jimmy quickly pushed you back down; holding you in place as he thrusted slowly until he felt you relax to let him all the way in.

"There we go princess, let daddy in." He cooed out

Jimmy began to pick up speed and your moans started to fill up the air. The clapping sounds of their skins bouncing against each other soon mangled into her moans as he kept fully pushing into her. He was going to break her back in tonight, wasn’t nobody getting a dance from her but him tonight.

Jimmy watched with slight amusement as he watched you move forward slightly every time he pushed himself all the way in. He chuckled and gripped on your hips and brought you back to him to fuck you harder.

"Where the fuck you going Y/N?"

You let out a cry, one of your hands reaching back to press against his stomach to push him back but he smacked your hand away from him. "Huh, I can’t hear you." He pressed, slapping your ass as he continued to fuck you. "You runnin’ from me?"

You shook your head, pressing your face into the sheet to let your loud moans out. Jimmy chuckled at you, keeping on of his hands on your waist and the other to grab onto your hair to force yourself back up. He pushed himself against you and pressed his lips against your ears and whispered darkly "I said I can’t hear you."

You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pushed himself deeper into you. It took a second for the words to fully register before you stuttered out, "No Daddy, M’not running." You slurred out.

Your head fall back against his shoulder so he let go of your hair and wrapped his hand around your neck instead, drilling brutal strokes into you. You cried out at the feeling, one hand reaching to grip onto his forearm and dig your nails into his skin.

"Fuck baby, thassit. Daddy making you feel good?"

"Yeeesssss, oh my fuck- feels so gooood."

Nothing could prepare you for the unexpected orgasm that ripped through you. A loud cry leaving your lips as he helped you ride the high out, grinding into you and rubbing onto your clit. The way you squeezed around him caused him to groan out. He wasn’t gonna cum yet. Not tell you came to an agreement with his New Year’s resolution.

"Fuccckk" you sighed out and Jimmy pulled out of you

"You okay mama?"

You tiredly nodded your head.

Jimmy laid you flat on your back, letting his eyes drink in your current state. Low eyes but a sated expression on your face. He leaned in a pecked your lips twice.

"Good, cause it’s my turn now." He mumbled against your lips before pushing himself back up again. He grabbed both of your legs and placed them on his shoulders.

"And Imma keep going till you forget about anyone else but me."

And he was a man who kept his promise, he definitely knew that coming into the new year he had to change the dynamic of their relationship by any means necessary.

_______________________

Happy New Years My lovelies. Let 2024 bring my nastiest side yet😭😭

#jimmy uso #wwe #empressdede #empresswriting #jimmy uso x reader #black reader #intothenewyear #jimmy uso x black reader #the usos

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rrrrinmaru · 2 months

Text

bury me (raf x mc, nsfw)

wc: 3949 rating: E warning: pussy eating, strip tease

Up until the moment you’re sat in the entertainment room that’s apparently been renovated on emergency notice, you don’t quite believe the situation you’ve found yourself in.

It started as an off-handed comment you didn’t think much of. Frankly, you didn’t think anything of it—the two of you were watching a movie (ok, Magic Mike, it was Magic Mike) and you mentioned, casual as ever, that you’ve always wanted to see a lap dance up close.

Rafayel went still. But Rafayel goes still at the strangest things—he once froze up at the sight of you petting a cat on the sidewalk and fell to the ground right next to the fire hydrant, in broad view of everyone walking down that very pavement—so again, you didn’t think much of it. Maybe he wanted to see a lap dance up close as well. Maybe, irrationally, he got a little jealous at the thought of you thinking of watching other men grind against flushed women, eyes bright as they watch the sheen of sweat on thick muscles centimetres away from their face.

You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect—

“You spent how much on the lights?” You ask, bewildered. “You got these custom made?”

“I wasn’t about to install cheap LED lights in my house,” Rafayel replies, fiddling with something in the corner. “The cost doesn’t matter. The real expensive baby was the audio system, but I already owned that before I got the bright idea to remodel this place.”

“You spent money to turn a room in your house into a strip club?” You say, voice slightly hysterical on the last two words. You almost don’t want to know the answer to your next question, but things have already progressed far enough. There’s no coming back from this. “Where’s the stripping pole?”

Rafayel shrugs. He’s wearing this thin, sheer fabric; so pale it’s almost transparent. It clings to the width of his shoulders, dipping down between the slope of his shoulder blades and the top tapers off at his waist. When he turns around, you can’t help but stare at the (quite frankly) whorish cut at the front.

The front of the shirt has this deep plunge all the way down to his abdomen. It’s practically two strips of fabric loosely folded over each other, and if he bends over, you get a full view of the hard planes of his chest and the curve of his tits.

He’s also wearing leather pants. Did you mention that? They look like they were painted on. The material stretches tight over his thighs, making him look even taller than he already does.

His feet are bare, toes curling into the rug covered floor. Rafayel stands there, weight shifted to one leg as he always does, and he practically preens under your undivided attention. Under your greedy, hungry gaze as you run your eyes up and down his body.

Behind him, the stereo system flares to life. This persistent, thumping drum beat slowly starts to build.

“Can’t we just—you know?” You say without thinking, leaning forward instinctively at the thought of getting your mouth on Rafayel. Has he even looked in a mirror before he decided on this particular set of clothes?

Rafayel smirks. Fuck, you swear you can see the literal imprint of his cock through his pants.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, voice honeyed as he takes his sweet time to walk over to you, that casual, loping stride that you can’t look away from. “Be patient.”

“This is the first time you’ve turned down my offer,” you say petulantly. “Please?”

“We haven’t even gotten to the good part,” Rafayel says, eyes glittering as he leans over. His hands land on the back of the curved sofa you’re seated on—they frame you like a solid wall of muscle, caging you in his embrace. His legs are on either side of your thighs, close enough that you swear you can feel the kiss of leather against your skin, the sheer heat radiating off his body.

The beat is loud, now. It’s loud enough that it sounds like you’re at a club; it sinks through your chest, filling your body up like a balloon as it seizes your senses. Your heart pulses in time with the heavy, throbbing bass—you stare up, eyes wide as all you hear is the sound of your heart and all you see is Rafayel’s eyes.

You could drown in that gaze. You know you could.

“No touching,” Rafayel breathes out. When he bends over, cheek barely milimetres away from your own, your breath hitches at the view down his shirt. “First rule of the club, Miss. No touching the performers.”

“Raf,” you whine, fingers curling desperately into fists by your side as you trace your eyes over the curve of his Adam’s Apple, the crook of his shallow collarbone, the slope of his tits and the fucking sight of his nipples, pebbling from the cold. You want to flick them. You want to put your hands on his abdomen and cup his tits and you want to mess him up.

“It’s better when you wait for it,” Rafayel murmurs. His breath is hot against the crook of your ear, and you can feel the break in his breathing when he laughs. “Do you like this?”

“Do something,” you whine, tilting your head back just to get a better look at the lithe line of Rafayel’s body hovering over yours. It’s driving you insane, having him this close but not touching—you’ve been conditioned to expect skin contact from Rafayel, his little absent-minded touches as he grazes his shoulder against yours, a hand curving around your waist to gently nudge you aside when he walks by, fingers wrapping around yours.

When he exhales, you swear you can see it. The shadow of smoke in the dim light, swooping down in the empty space between both of your lips. It’s maddening having him here, having this sliver of space between you two. You could reach up around his waist and drag him down; you could wrap one hand around the base of his neck and pull and he would go, sweetly, obediently, and he would make the most delicious sounds into your mouth.

You know this. You know it like you know the back of your hand, because he’s done it a million times before. You think you’ve never known anyone as well as you know Rafayel—like looking into a deep pool of still water and finding your reflection looking back.

Rafayel hums, the heat of his breath scattering over your collarbones as he rolls his hips. You swallow, mind spinning from the slightest scrape of tight leather against your thighs. He does it again, hips grinding in this slow, torturous move right above your core.

“Your muscles,” you say weakly, eyes riveted to the tension in his abdomen. His muscles are taut, pale skin clearly visible through the dip in his shirt. A bead of sweat drips down, tracing a path between his pectorals and down, down, down—

Your eyes follow it greedily, wishing you could chase after it with your tongue.

“You look delirious,” Rafayel whispers, his voice low and hoarse. There’s a husk to his words, and you can’t help the way you swallow, fingers tightening further into fists. You’re familiar with that voice. That’s how he sounds after he’s been worked up beyond belief, until all he can think of is laying you out and eating you clean.

This is clearly doing it for him too, just as much as it’s working on you. The lights flicker, bleeding from one color into the next. It’s crazy how Rafayel looks bewitching in every color; the neon red light looks like crimson splashed across his face, highlighting the cut of his cheekbone and the glint of his teeth when he smirks at you. The blue light casts his face into darkness, smoothing his features out and the shadow stretches over him, the color melting into his hair. He looks like a siren rising out of a water surface, eyes half-lidded and lips barely parted, fingers itching to steal your soul away.

You’re possessed by the sudden desire to dump a glass of water on him. This look would be greatly improved if he was drenched to the bone, you think dizzily, with crystal droplets hanging off his eyelashes, dipping in the crook of his lips, pooling in his clavicle. His shirt, translucent as it is, would turn completely transparent. It would cling to his skin even more than it already does.

“Please,” you beg, not even sure what you’re begging for. His hands on you. His mouth on you. His weight on you, pressing you down, holding you in place as he does whatever he wants to your body.

His smirk is so self-satisfied that you want to kiss it off his lips.

“Patience,” he murmurs. Rafayel braces his knees against the seat of the couch and leans back, wearing a brazen look as he looks at you. His smile spreads as he crooks his fingers at you—you bend forward, lips parting as if ready to use your tongue to trace the grooves on his abdomen.

Rafayel laughs. It’s a smug sound, but you can’t even fault him. He cuts a stunning figure like this, thighs spread and framed in shining leather, shirt so low and open that you don’t know where to look; the light drips over his skin like someone poured liquid gold all over him, drenching him in a moving pattern of red and blue lights.

He holds a hand out. “Your hand,” he says, and you quickly put your palm in his like you’re no better than a dog.

“Thank you, baby,” Rafayel teases, flipping your hand over to press a kiss to your fingertips before he pulls it to his jaw. You flex your fingers, trying to swallow past the sudden thudding of your heart as he presses your hand to the slant of his jaw, down to the line of his neck.

You’re not given any time to linger on the heat radiating off his body. He pulls your hand further down, your fingers grasping uselessly at the meat of his chest, trembling as your palm flattens against his skin.

And then, as if he’s been doing this all his life, Rafayel arches his back. His muscles roll in this slow, sinuous movement as he drags your hand down his abdomen.

You can feel it in aching clarity. The expanding of his rib cage as he breathes, the tension in his muscles as he clenches his abdomen to even out the grind of his hips. The heat, that absurd, blistering heat that you’re certain will melt your fingerprints clean off your fingers.

He does it again. Leans forward, eyes glittering in the flickering lights as he arches his back, letting you feel the way his muscles move under his skin as he rolls his hips.

Without thinking, you reach forward with your other hand. You’re not even sure where you’re aiming at—you just want to get your hand on him. The details can be handled later.

But Rafayel catches your wrist before your fingers even scrape past the loose material of his shirt. “No touching the merchandise,” he chides, holding you in place.

Your fingernails scratch pointedly at his abdomen. It makes him huff out a laugh—a surprised, breathy sound that for some reason gives you the urge to get your mouth on him now.

“I’m already touching you,” you breathe out, eyes glazing over when Rafayel clenches his abs just to watch the way you lose focus.

“I let you touch me,” Rafayel shoots back, smug as ever. “You don’t get to touch me without permission.”

“Raf—”

“Just enjoy it, Miss,” he murmurs, nudging one knee in between yours to slide your thighs apart. “I’m putting on a show. Don’t you like it?”

You like it a bit too much. All of a sudden, you realise why people like to keep pretty things in cages. Rafayel would look entrancing like that, you think, eyes wandering over his body. Lounging in a long column of water with transparent walls, like a fish tank in an aquarium large enough to store a whole pod of dolphins. Stuck with no where to go.

But your breath catches in your throat before you can reply with something intelligent. Rafayel presses his lips to the underside of your neck, at the spot where your jaw meets your throat—featherlight, so quickly that you almost miss it.

While you’re frozen, breath trapped under your tongue, he hums and traces a faint path down your body. His lips on your neck, your collarbones, the dip between your tits—he leans down, switching to your bare arm when the fabric of your slip dress gets in the way.

Surely he can feel it. The pulse of your heartbeat under your skin, a mile a minute, fluttering at the sight of his half-crescent lips trailing against the sensitive underside of your forearm.

And then he gets on his knees. He’s right there, eyes bright and glittering like jewels under the dancing lights as he leans forward to press the side of his cheek against your thigh.

You can feel the way his breath heats up against your knee. It feels like he’s burning a mark into you, etching the shape of his lips into your skin. You won’t ever be able to remove it. It’ll be branded into your inner thigh, the crimson half-moon stains that mark you as his.

“Spread your legs for me,” Rafayel whispers, lips curving into a smile. “Open up, baby.”

The flush in your cheeks feels absurd. You must look drunk, inebriated after one too many shots as your thighs spread instinctively to frame Rafayel in between them. He reaches up, each hand wrapping around the outside of your knees, fingers dipping into the crook at the back.

His grip is light, barely any pressure on your legs, but you feel like his hands may as well be two shackles against your knees, holding you in place.

“Wider,” he says, eyes brilliant in the flickering lights. You could drown in that gaze, if the heat in your core didn’t kill you first. “Come on, gorgeous.”

“Raf,” you groan, thighs spreading even further. It makes you slip from your position on the sofa, inching further down just to make space for your legs to open wider.

The fabric of your dress rucks up around your hips. It folds messily, and Rafayel holds your gaze in this heartstopping, torturous moment as his fingers creep up and under your dress.

There’s something about it. Something you can’t explain, not even with an entire dictionary at your disposal. There is something about the way you can’t see his fingers, his palms as he slides them further up your thighs, below the crease of silk. The way the back of his hands and his wrists slowly, gradually disappear under your dress. While he keeps his gaze on you, eyes burning with such intent and desire it makes you breathless.

His fingers bump up against your underwear, the way the fabric digs into your thighs. The shock of it all makes you yelp a little, hands flying forward to feel blindly for Rafayel’s hands under your dress.

You’re not sure what purpose you want to achieve. You’re just—it’s just—it’s just a lot, okay, and the way he looks at you is so—

Rafayel doesn’t do anything. His fingers go still, frozen under your grip, but you can feel the bracing heat of them through the thin fabric of your underwear. Your damp underwear. If his fingers were to slip, you know he would be able to press his thumb against the wet spot right at your slit, or slide higher to press at your throbbing clit.

You make this low, reedy noise, and let go of his hands. You shift even lower on the sofa, back curved as you lean your head back against the headrest. Your thighs spread just a little bit wider.

“Thank you, baby,” Rafayel murmurs, eyes finally lowering as he lifts the skirt of your dress. “Look at how pretty you are.”

“Get on with it,” you bite out, voice shaky from arousal. The music is getting to you—the deep, pulsing bass throbs at your temples, holding your heart in a vice grip. The singer is crooning something; his deep, low voice rumbling on and on about sex and you’re too out of it to properly register the lyrics.

Rafayel pays you no mind. He takes his own sweet time to push your dress further up your hips, exposing the line of your thighs and your underwear to his hungry gaze.

And then, right under your eyes, he leans in and presses a kiss to your stiff clit.

“Raf!” You try to shut your thighs on instinct, hips jerking at the sudden pressure against your clit, but Rafayel’s hands are firm against the inside of your thighs and he holds you open. He forces your legs wider, and he looks up at you as he fits his mouth to the middle of your panties, tongue flat against where your core burns the hottest.

Fuck, you think, mouth open as you try to gasp for air. Rafayel is good at this—too good, you think, to the point where you flush when you catch yourself staring at his mouth for too long sometimes—and he breathes out on your cunt, relishing in the way your clit twitches in your panties.

“You’re so fucking cute,” Rafayel murmurs, pulling the fabric taut over your pussy so he can see your swollen clit straining through your panties. He gives it another kiss, and you arch your back at the electricity that lights your body up when he does that. Rafayel knows what you like, and he wields that knowledge like a weapon.

You gaze at him, eyes half-lidded as you try to reach for his hair. Rafayel ducks away from your searching fingers, giving you a smile when you scowl at him.

“No touching the merchandise,” he reminds you.

A disgruntled noise leaves your mouth. How are you supposed to hold him in place when he won’t let you touch him? “Take them off, Raf, please—”

It’s as if Rafayel was put on this Earth specifically to raise your blood pressure. Even when he has his mouth on your cunt, face between your legs, he’s still possessed by the overpowering urge to do something that goes against what you say.

“Not yet,” he says, nonplussed, and drags your underwear to the side to expose your dripping center. “Look at how wet you are.”

Rafayel’s voice is gravelly, hoarse as he stares at you. Your pussy clenches instinctively—his gaze feels heavy, like a physical weight bearing into you. You’d really like a physical weight bearing into you right now, actually, and you know exactly where you can find one.

He presses his tongue to your clit. Your hips spasm, eyes rolling into the back of your head when he closes his lips around your swollen bud and sucks. It feels like fire burning through your entire body, pleasure sparking in your veins when he laps at your clit. You could cum like this, his clever tongue working your clit over and over in the soft wetness of his mouth.

“So pretty,” Rafayel murmurs to himself, not even caring if you hear. He drags his tongue down, licking along the length of your cunt, spit mixing with the wetness dripping from your pussy. He rearranges his grip on your inner thigh—his palm frames the vee of your hips now, thumb pulling at the side of your cunt to open you up for his taking.

Rafayel eats you out like a man possessed. There’s this wild, desperate hunger in him, in the way he moves his mouth, the way he surfaces to gasp for air before going back to dip his tongue into your pussy and lick at your insides. He eats you out so greedily that you can truly believe he would be happy here, trapped between your legs and buried in your cunt for so long he goes breathless while you go cross-eyed with pleasure so overwhelming it makes you dizzy.

“Fuck,” Rafayel groans, panting against your cunt. His breath feels like he’s blowing hot smoke against your clit, making it twitch uncontrollably with every gust of air over it. You’re so worked up that just this is enough to make your hips jerk forward, chasing the ghost of his mouth to try to get it back on your cunt. “You taste so fucking good, Miss—”

“More,” you beg, straining against the sofa to try to get leverage, any kind of leverage to tilt your hips up. “Please, Raf, I’m close—fuck, I’m—”

This time, he doesn’t need to be told twice. He moves his head, tongue curling as he fucks it into your throbbing pussy. You’re so close, right on the precipice—it’s like your entire body is a livewire, hips jerking uncontrollably whenever his tongue hits that sweet spot and making your nerves light up with pleasure. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open; you want to keep your eyes on Rafayel, to see the way his curls bounce as he mouths hungrily at your cunt. But the pleasure is so devastating, so mind-numbing that you can’t help the way your eyes flutter shut, your body unable to concentrate on more than one sensation at once.

Your clit is so stiff that it aches. And when Rafayel licks at it, flicking his tongue against your swollen clit and relishing in the desperate, needy sounds falling from your mouth—

It crescendos like a tsunami wave rising to its peak. Your body freezes, mouth falling open as you arch your back, pushing up, up, up against Rafayel’s tongue. It spreads through you like a wildfire, burning you up from the inside out. Your mind is blank, you can’t think, you can’t even make a sound.

You just gasp, silent as the orgasm crashes over you like the tide, taking you under and drowning you beneath the water. Rafayel keeps fucking going, sucking at your clit to keep you right on that knife’s edge, pleasure melting into overstimulation because he knows you like it when it aches. When it becomes a little biting, when it starts to hurt just a little.

He laps at your clit until you shiver, hands weakly pressing against his forehead. Rafayel gives your cunt one last lick, sucking at the lips of your pussy and licking his lips when he catches your gaze.

“All done?” He asks, reaching up to wipe the visible remnants of your orgasm from his jaw. “Another one?”

“I want to suck your cock,” you say, the breath still mostly fucked out of you. “Come—come here.”

“Nuh-uh,” Rafayel tells you, rising back to his feet. The music is still thumping through the walls, resounding in the room as you tilt your head back and stare up at him. “I’m not done. It isn’t a strip show until I’ve gotten naked.”

You blink at him. He still—

“Okay,” you say uselessly. You can see the thick outline of his cock through his pants, so visible that you’re almost certain the leather will burst. “Go on.”

He gives you this smug, confident smile, and you politely don’t mention how the bottom half of his mouth is still wet from your cum.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #l&ds rafayel #rafayel #恋与深空 #祁煜 #러브앤딥스페이스 #恋と深空

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multifandomgirl08 · 7 months

Text

Bittersweet - C.L. #16

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Summary: Going to the Annual Formula 1 Gala seemed like a good idea. But once you get there you realize that you don't feel like you belong there. A certain Monégasque driver changes your mind.

Warning(s): Google Translate French, assumptions of infidelity (Not in relation to Charles)

A/N: This is taken from this request by Anon. I finished this one up in a few days thanks to how detailed the prompt was. I loved exploring the atmosphere of the party in this one. It's set in the same universe as Mini Verstappen because I couldn't help myself.

Words: 1.5k

→ Next Part Bittersweet Masterlist

When you got the invite to the Formula 1 Gala that the FIA held at the end of the season, you thought your uncle was being a little too generous. He knew that Charles Leclerc was your favorite driver, but going to a gala where all of the drivers on the grid would be was a lot.

Your uncle had paid for your dress and the hotel during your stay in Monaco. You had been looking forward to the party because you would be sharing the same space with Charles and would get to experience something that no other normal F1 fan would get to part take in. You were sure that the party would be fun, being able to talk to all of the big wigs in the sport, and the food would no doubt be exceptional.

You were already dressed for the party when the town car picked you up from your hotel. Entering the party made you feel like you were entering a completely different world. There were people here who had more money than they probably knew what to do with.

You found your assigned seat watching everyone around you mingle, talk, and drink. As your eyes swept over the room spotting driver after driver, none of them Charles. Your eyes didn’t even travel all the way to the bar before you felt lightheaded.

The expensive crystal glasses reflected off the equally dazzling jewelry all of the women were wearing. You can’t help shifting in your spot in the room, taking a filled glass with champagne, hoping that the liquid will help you feel less out of place.

You saw Sebastian Vettel there conversing with a small group of people, a woman hanging off both of his tux-covered arms. Wasn’t he married? It seemed like most of the drivers that you saw all of whom were in relationships, were flirting with people who weren’t their partners.

Like, Max Verstappen. Who was talking to a tall leggy brunette, who was very much not his wife. Max’s wife was well-loved by the fans. You couldn’t imagine the woman he loves and affectionately called, his lioness, to be okay with him flirting with some random woman.

You took your bag off the chair, disappearing into the corner of the room towards the grand piano, hoping to get away from it all. You lean your head against the wall letting out a deep breath. You have never felt more out of place than you do now. The money, the clothes. It just made your everyday life seem so… boring compared to all of this.

You move to pull out your phone hoping that it’ll make the time pass by faster before you can leave at an acceptable time. Stay through the meal, walk around the room once more, get a drink from the bar just to be seen by the other guests, and then go back to the hotel. You were just about to open one of your favorite apps when you heard a familiar voice that had never sounded clearer.

“You know, it’s a party,” You hear from in front of you. “You are supposed to have fun.”

You looked up to see him, Charles Leclerc holding a tumbler filled with expensive amber liquor. You look him up and down, immediately letting your eyes fall to the floor. He wouldn’t want to talk to you, he’s just like all of the other people in the room. He is too enamored in his own life, enjoying the party for how he sees everything. It’s normal to him, to see all of the drivers shamelessly flirting with people who aren’t their partners.

“I’m not going to leave you, I promise.” You hear him say. You still don’t look up.

“I’ve been watching you from the bar.” You let your eyes move up to his hands. He has them out towards you. “Since you came into the room.” He says quieter as if you’re exchanging secrets.

“You are too beautiful to be by yourself.” Lies. Every word of it. You tell yourself. But you want to enjoy talking with Charles, you have been a fan of him since you got into watching Formula 1.

“Maybe I like being by myself.” You reply, meeting his gaze. His piercing blue-green eyes gave you a smile you had seen a dozen times before. But it was never for you before now.

“We can escape together then.” He offers you a hand that you’re hesitant to take. You let him lead you away from the crowd up to one of the balconies above the room.

“You’re first time at the Gala?” He asked placing his glass down after sitting on the chair across from the one you were in.

“And the last.” You say honestly.

“Come on, it’s not that bad. Is it?” He asked.

You give him a shrug. This is his world, you’re just living in it for the night.

“I’m not going to let you spend your one and only time here unhappy.” He removed his jacket placing it on the chair. He slips his hand in yours pulling you over to the balcony to look over the party.

“See Seb down there.” He points over to Sebastian, who is still talking to a group of people. The women have left him. “He’s starting a new charity, so earlier he was flirting with those two women who are now by the bar for a big donation to his charity.”

You take in Charles’ words still not fully believing him. You knew that Sebastian could be a flirt, you had seen the interviews from when he was still driving before he retired.

“And Max.” He pointed down to Verstappen who was talking with Christian Horner and Daniel Ricciardo. You had seen him earlier talking to a woman, you thought at first glance that he was flirting with her, but now he seemed more interested in his phone than talking to anyone.

“His wife just had a baby, and although he didn’t want to come, his wife asked him to because they met at one of these events. I overheard her begging him, please, for me Max, earlier.” He gave his impression of Max's wife. It wasn’t half bad from the short clip that you heard of her voice.

You felt your shoulders relax a little and a small smile broke through. You knew a little about Max, he was introverted and cared about his family. Being here made it seem like all of the drivers only cared about the luxuries that came with the job of driving in F1. Not that, for some of them it was just an unavoidable part of the sport.

“We’re not all bad.” He said. “And if you don’t believe me, I’ll spend the rest of the night trying to prove you wrong.”

“I don’t want to waste your time.” Although it was sweet that Charles wanted to prove you wrong when it came to your impression of the drivers, you still didn’t feel like you belonged at this party. Everyone here looked like they belonged, you didn’t even feel like you were worth the designer shoes that were on your feet. He should leave you there and go back downstairs. Talk with Carlos, Pierre, or one of the team sponsors that was down there.

“Trust me, amour. Spending time with you would be worth more to me than you could know.” He gave you his signature smile, soft, warm, and inviting.

He held his arm out to you, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes before your smile broke through. He was too charming for his own good. You took his arm and let him lead you downstairs back to the party.

You had spent the rest of the evening together, drinking expensive champagne, eating the best food that Monaco had to offer, and even slow danced with Charles to the cellos and violins that were playing in the background.

At the end of the night, Charles walked you to the town car that you came in, you thanked him for spending the evening with you, “My pleasure.” he replied before kissing your hand.

“Bonne nuit, chérie.” He closed the door after you got into the car. You glanced up at him silently hoping that you would get to see him again.

You leaned back into the seat of the town car as it drove away from the party. You looked out the window in the dark Monaco night, you saw all of the yachts on the harbor. It made you think that Charles had changed your perspective on the way that you viewed the drivers on the grid.

They were just people living their lives, more glamorous in some ways. But that didn’t mean that they had all changed their core values.

Charles was just as down to earth, caring, and considerate as he had been from the first day that you had found out who he was. He hadn’t changed one bit. He had made you feel like you were the most important person at the gala tonight.

You would go back to your life, but would forever cherish the few moments that you got with Charles tonight. You wanted to see him again, even if it was only to steal a few selfish moments of his time.

Translation(s):

Bonne nuit, chérie. - Goodnight, sweetheart.

End A/N: Link here with some additional information if you are interested in reading a whole series based on this.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader #cl16 one shot #bittersweet mini series

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themotherofblood · 11 months

Text

two swords, three holes | d.t x h.s x reader | smut

synopsis: two bisexual daddies and naive whore! reader. A longing reunion between soft!dom!Harwin, kelitsos and mean!dom!Dae Dae.

idk what about style by tswift made me type this but here we are, enjoy yourself some daddies. Also thanks to @inlovewithhisblueeyes for the title

WC: 4.9k

Warnings; double penetration (wrap before you tap) infantilism, overstimulation, anal, squirting, mlm, breeding kink, humiliation, corruption, :p, clittttt play because y’all know I’m crazy for that, multiple orgasm, multiple rounds,, spanking, rough smut, AFTERCARE! misogynistic culture, mentions of SA,

The warm crackle of the fire by the hearth seemed to have lulled you to further exhaustion, heating skin laid flush against furs in the receiving chambers. Awaiting one curly brown-haired Ser to return from his duties to your bed. The quaint cottage your patrons, or perhaps paramours had provided you with was further away from the Street of Silk, a house with walls large enough to fill with books as you learned to read and two attendants to keep you company in the day as your responsibilities only seem to resume at night. Though your abilities kept your pockets full often, opting to be more philanthropic with its expenditure. Both patrons had made one thing clear, you were to be untouched by hands that weren’t theirs.

They had found you on a particularly brutal rampage before the Tournament of the Harvest Moon. Prince Daemon, the Lord Commander of the City Watch, tore into the streets of King’s Landing with his gold cloak wearing soldiers; rounding up all knowns rapers, thieves and assailants. The perverse of the lot took advantage of the bloodied chaos as their blood rushed with the violence, with Daemon having no account for where his men had been - they too raped and brutalised with the authority of the Crown on their shoulders. Ser Harwin Strong had found you, curled into a corner as a lowly soldier towered over you. His teeth barred as he smirked with the thoughts of defiling you. Harwin had quickly taken action, reprimanding the man and dragging him back by the collar to Prince Daemon along with you as witness to his crime.

Upon their victorious return to the Flea Bottom streets, with the favoured crown sitting on Daemon’s head after winning the tourney. He treated his gold cloaks to his favourite brothel with all the women, ale and strong wines the men could stomach in one night. Chataya’s brothel had been the light of Flea Bottom that night. You worked at the very brothel, not as a whore but as a helper, while you were sold to Chataya at a very young age, her heart bled with empathy for you and raised you in her house and gave you the choice to be a whore or not.

You washed their clothes, cooked meals, cleaned rooms and counted account books with Chataya. Your curious eye often stood in the corners of these rooms dressed as a page boy, watching people delve deeper in perversions within the performative echoes from your ‘sisters’ as they pleased their customers. It was then that you spotted Prince Daemon and Ser Harwin once more, having nothing to offer them as gratitude other than bracelets made of mismatched pearls you had collected while cleaning rooms. Such innocent appreciation had made Daemon’s cock twitch within his breeches, and while Harwin picked a whore to fuck for the night. Daemon tried all his will to convince Chataya to have you - her answer remained firm throughout, it would be only if you wished it so.

Wished you did, having given your maidenhead to the handsome brunette Ser and eventually Daemon, both noblemen had you within their clutches. While they trusted Chataya’s judgement on keeping you just for them, they found it unbecoming within weeks as Daemon purchased a cottage higher up in the city to house you in. Their finest prize showered in gold and comfort, much expected to be kept to yourself and yet you always returned to your sisters. Buying them new gowns and necessities with the money Daemon gave you.

So here you were, bundled with furs in front of a painted hearth. Warm and content as you waited for Harwin to visit you. There had been three fires today in the city and four tavern brawls. The gold cloaks were always busy in ensuring the city safe, and to live up to the purpose Daemon had given them, so even as the hour of the owl struck the higher born of the city resumed to bed, the wild machinations of Flea Bottom were just to begin.

The night swayed forward, as Harwin exhaustively stumbled into your home, your handmaidens letting him into the establishment. He had trailed in to find your bed empty, and a puddle of furs and blankets pooled by the hearth, a head of hair leaking through and an apparent rise and fall of mount. You had fallen asleep waiting for him amd he couldn’t find it in his heart to wake you for his lustful needs. He scooped the bundle whole, all warm and dozed before placing you on your bed and following next you.

He pulled your limp body atop him, his larger arms engulfing you whole, you stir - whiney and apologetic - you realise you had fallen asleep. “Shh, sleep,” Harwin’s words rumbled within his bare chest, the hairs of which tickled at your cheek. The plans you had made to pleasure him tonight all washed away to sea as sleep only made you heavier, with only one thing left to be done, perhaps he would answer.

“May I ask you something, my lord,” you whispered, head lifting up to look upon his tired face. His eyes closed, lashes far prettier than your as he hummed to be permissive. “They say the fighting has grown ugly in the Stepstones, do… Do you have any word of Prince Daemon?”

His brows furrowed as he opened his eyes to look down upon you, his thumb caressed at your cheek. “He has a dragon, girl. He will be fine.”

This time you hummed, nuzzling further into the thickness of his beard, letting sleep carry you away to a world of dream as you imagined being surrounded in your paramours arms again.

Harwin patrolled the streets atop his horse, making his rounds lower into the city and keeping a watchful eye through his helmet. He caught your silhouette, dressed in a light blue gown as you mingled in the markets, spending his fortune for yet another absurd trinket no doubt instead of the pearls or gowns he expected you to buy, the last time you have bought clay moulded lizards - lizards - one of which you gifted him for becoming the Lord Commander of the City Watch before sucking his life through his cock.

“You there, girl!” Harwin’s voice boomed through the market making you flinch, you scowled at him for scaring you and yet people thought that the City Watch had yet again chosen to terrorise the innocent. “Come with me,” his voice dropped in authoritative sauve, motioning his finger to hither you towards him as he dismounted his horse.

Harwin’s hold on you was rough and yet as he dragged you towards an empty alleyway your heart thumped in your chest with excitement, your legs finding it harder to keep up with his hasty steps. Harwin pulled you in between a wall and himself, admiring you from behind his helm, you - very innocently - batted your eyelashes at him. “Have I done something wrong, Ser?” you smirked, lips pulling at the corners as you played along.

“Oh, a terrible crime,” he pushed you back against the stone wall “what do you think you are wearing?” his brow querked as his pointer and middle finger mindlessly trailed down to the low cutout of the dress, his fingers resulting in goosebumps flaring over your skin as he caressed the valley in between your breasts.

“This?” you looked down to your dress sheepishly, knowing the Dornish silhouette was a far exotic choice than anything the commoners let alone the ladies in King’s Landing wore. Gold arm cuffs were hugged around your upper arm as the ruby pendant Daemon gifted you sat against your sternum. “Do you not like it?” your question is genuine, soft. You doe eyed little thing.

“I could rip this off you as retribution, sweet girl,” he groaned, letting his head drop towards the crook of your neck “but I won’t. He whiffed in the scent of lilies in the air around you as he dragged his lips up to your ear, “on your knees, pet.”

“But- my dress,” you whined, not wanting to dirty your dress that you were sure no matter how hard you scrubbed wouldn’t be off, your bottom lip pouting out in conflict over wanting to kneel for him and the loss of your dress.

“I’ll buy you dozens more, perhaps take you Dorne myself,” he opposed, still caressing the round of your breast, letting them slip past the deep cut out.

You obliged kneeling like a well trained slut, ready with your tongue out to have your mouth stuffed. Harwin freed his cock from his breech, it laid semi hardened as you wrapped your hand around the base, tugging at it to harden alive. The warm appendage laid heavy on your tongue as his wet tip leaked its yearn slick. You suckled right on the tip, looking up at him through the lining of your eyelashes. His body hunched over, his palm laid flat against the wall as he greeted his teeth over the maddening sight of your innocent eyes looking up at him, his sweetest prize.

Your mouth sunk deeper feeling him grace the back of your mouth as your throat constricted, your cunt too pooled it’s slick within you. Wanting nothing more than to be pounded against this jagged stone wall. You bobbed away, reaching up to cradle his stones within your palm as you choked against his length. His muffled grunts echoing with the bustle noises of the city, any watchful eye would merely see a whore pleasuring a knight for two coppers, but you - you were no mere whore, you were the woman that held two noblemen by their collars.

“Ah - darling, fuck,” he hissed, the warm sensations of your mouth pleasuring him beyong compare “such a good girl,” he groaned. Holding back the urge to abruptly fuck into your mouth as his digits curled into your braided crown. His stones laid heavy and twitchy upon your hands as your eyes blazed aflame, finding much power bringing a staunch man like him so vulnerable, his lips pink and wet with his blue sea-like eyes glancing into your soul. The warm cream from his cock, spilling fast your lips as he finally rutted his hips into your mouth.

He rests his forehead onto the clenched fist resting on the wall, heaving his thudding heart to calm as you tuck him back into his breeches. Still pawing at his bountiful leather covered thighs, resting your cheek against it as you waited for him to gather his bearings. He yanked you up by your forearms, pulling out a handkerchief from his pockets to wipe at the corners of your mouth. He smiled at you, plump lips curling as he tucked his handkerchief into the belt of your dress.

“Scurry back home,” he ordered, reaching down to grasp your mound over the silks of your gown “play with your pretty cunt, keep it nice and wet.” he enunciated the ‘t’ as he crowded your air with his own. Commanding and tall “and don’t your dare fucking come.”

Even as you yet again curled into this absurdly large bed alone, filled with warmth of the furs and the freshly stoked hearth. The jasmine scent of the flowers decorating your canopy or the painted candle burning at the side of your bed, the owls hooted along with the muffled echo of the city still alive and bustling below. Keeping your galant knight away from your bed, away from your arms. To hell with the mongrels that kept him occupied so, they must always find a tavern to burn or a fight to enthral themselves with. There wasn’t any other way but to stroke your bare shoulder with your spare arm, mimicking the much coarser finger tips that often drew patterns of crescent moons or mangoes.

It has been perhaps hours since slumber consumed you whole, having curled into a rather painful position that would be sure to have your back aching in the morrow. In your drowsy and heavy state, it didn’t really matter. What made your heavy limbs hyper aware to your mind was when thunderous knocks rang down your door way past the middle of the night. Your servant girl had approached the door first, cautious as she rubbed the sleep away from her eyes, she opened the heavy steel bolt on the inside with a thud, hoping to not awaken you upstairs. The view she was graced with was terrifying to say the least, a man with face covered in soot and blood stood by the threshold. Had it not been for the burning torches above the doorway illuminating the steps below. Her scream would have awoken half of Rhaenys Hill, yet the glowing wisp of silver hair that peaked past the dirt made it highly apparent of who this person was, a patron missing from this house for over two years; Daemon Targaryen.

The uproar that followed after Daemon’s return to King’s Landing was joyous, an animalistic life of its own, Flea Bottom had provided. With Daemon’s return, their Prince returned to breathe fire into their debauchery. The night he returned, with no pages or correspondences announcing his return. Merely stopping at your doorstep still reeking of the war he had won, awry bandaging covering his up thigh and the very apparent burn scarring spreading through the right of his torso had you gasping and tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you stripped him of his armour and then clothes. Your servant Marsha had prepared a steaming hot, hot bath to wash away the pains from the brutalities he suffered, once settled in the bath. Perhaps your emotions had taken the better of you as you stepped into the tube as well, hissing at the burning contact of the milky water, still in your cream shift as Daemon protested. You lowered with a washcloth in your hand, wordlessly washing away any speck of dirt fallen victim to your eyes. What had they done to him, even more so what had he done to the assailant that might have had the daft courage to trifle with Daemon.

When you awoke the morning after, Daemon had already vanished. Though having slept with your body pulled tight against his, you had no recollection of him leaving, Marsha said he dressed in the early hours of the morning and left. Your heart stung a little, you should be accustomed to both noble men leaving and arriving at all hours of the morning and night for they had their own courtly lives to lead, a part beyond a common whore’s stature.

By the coming of the afternoon, when the sun stood at its highest and King’s Landing at its busiest, word of Daemon’s performance at court in the morrow spread through the city. The Rogue Prince, now styles the King of the Narrow Sea waltzed into the Throne Room to rub his victory into the faces of his protestors but also added a dozen sacks full of swords, axes and weapons to the throne. Keeping merely the bone and ruby crown he rested upon his head.

You dressed for him nonetheless, with no hopes that he might return at night; having been in his family’s company after three summers. Yet a letter arrived from the Red Keep, informing you to prepare the house of guests. The entirety of the gold cloaks were to descend onto your home, though a large event to host a sizable amount you were still a little wary of the men.

More helpers were acquired just for the evening as you found yourself fussing like the ladies of minor houses to impress the hood society though nothing about this night would be polite, nor proper. You wore a dark maroon dress, curtesy of the colours of house Targaryen, Daemon found it visually stirring, the ominous colour against your supple skin. With much preparation for yourself, from a bath laced with milk and sandalwood shavings - having yourself cleaned thoroughly - to the rose oil rubbed against your skin to your pinkish cheeks and lips with rogue.

The celebration was exuberant, gold cloaks accompanied with women(whores) curled around each arm flooded into the main hall of your home. Deep bellies laughter and high pitched chortle harmonised against one another, you settled comfortably on Harwin’s lap as you giggled and tuned to hear the gory tales of battles between. Taking turns to use your nibble finger and feed either Harwin or Daemon, you revelled in the attention you received. A constant was Daemon's heavier hand under yours as you mindlessly twisted his signet rings, something he took not of and loosened his rest on the table.

Daemon leaned back to whisper to Harwin as you gossiped along with a sister from Chataya’s giggling over the eccentric men she had met and the stories they told her in a lust filled state. You abruptly shrieked as you felt Harwin rise with your body in his arms as he effortlessly threw you over his shoulder. Hollers and hoots ripped through the main hall as they banged their fists against the table or whistled at their Lord Commander, his chair scraping against the stone floor as he began to carry you upstairs. Daemon rose their after.

“Now,” he announced as the chatter in the room dwindled, “forgive me lads, I’m afraid the hostess herself is a finer feast than the one she has offered us tonight.” He smirked your way as you were carried away. The men around the hall toasted your name and hollered once more as Daemon soon followed behind.

Your dress has been long discarded in some dark corner of your bed chambers, the crowd below had surely filled themselves to the brothels or taverns. Leaving but Marsha and the attendant to clean the mess left behind. Upstairs yet another scene unfolding at the foot of your bed as your stood on the balls of your feet, head swooning and occupied at the wet ministrations between yours legs. One knee resting over Harwin’s shoulder as the other being caressed by a hand - which hand was a question unanswered as you were being consumed in waves of pleasure.

Harwin’s beard tickled and rubbed against your thigh sore, his tongue feasting at the petal below. Slurping between your folds only to grace you aching, throbbing bud momentarily; refusing you of the release you longed for. Daemon settled behind you toyed with your puckered rosebud, a sensation he much missed as he himself had carved a home with his cock in your arse. Licking and spreading it open with his tongue, lovingly - teasingly letting his digit be engulfed as his others toyed with your cunt. Filling either from the paper walls separating them, Daemon found odd fascination with the way your environs moved, malleable to stretch to his will but mostly how much the brat within you fought hard against the acquiescent demeanour you possessed.

They could spend hours strumming away at your petals and holes; relishing in the sounds of your squelching cunt along with the soft kitten like mewls curbed your urge to beg. Harwin once again trapped your pearl between his lip, suckling away as you shrieked. Hips grinding as best as they could against the tight hold held against them, you wanted to finish, the tingle soon turning to pain. You yearned for that release like water to a dying plant. “Pl - please my lord,” you whined, more tears falling past your eyes.

To your horror, Harwin pulled away once more as he felt the grip of your cunny clench against his and Daemon’s fingers. You could nearly scream from how frustrated you were but all you could do was weep, mourn the longing peak that now flared into far sensitised despair in your belly. Sniffling and pouted soft bottom lip down, Daemon rose to his legs to admire the bereft look of pliant begging. “Please,” you whispered, more tears falling from your eyes as you opened them. Your eyes looking up at Daemon towering over you, “I’ll do anything, my prince,” you hiccuped, leaning into the soft caress of his hand.

Daemon’s palm curled into your wild hair, yanking back the braided crown “I’m not your prince am I?” his voice sweet, doting yet the shivering of threats, no - no he wasn’t your prince, he was your tormentor. Having grown too used to the spoiling Harwin had doted upon you. “My King,” you said, hoping to please him, enough to wash away the terrible ache in between your legs.

His hand never left your hair as he pulled you away from Harwin, yanking your clumsy limbs down to your bed. Harwin rose to his feet next, beard glistening with your juices and blue eyes blown with lust, he kissed your arse as your shuffled onto the bed. Dripping away the extra furs and blankets, to hell with them. Daemon engulfed Harwin from behind, attacking his neck as he complained “you’ve spoil her too much,” he whispered as he let his arms roam through his paramour’s muscular body.

“And you not enough,” Harwin defended, smiling at your needy face “she is a good girl, isn’t she?” He quirks his brow at you. Your head furiously nodded, sealing the statement as you sat on your knee and back straightened. The only thing gracing your skin, a necklace made of shells and sapphires. “Organising such a wondrous feast for her lords,” he said, Daemon hummed, agreeing.

“I suppose you do deserve to be rewarded, don’t you slut,” Daemon approached you, pushing you hair away, almost petting you like a kept animal. You nodded once more. “What do you want?” he whispered against your lips.

“Both, I - I want to be full,” you looked down at your fiddling fingers “please,” you requested. Daemon audibly growled from the back of his throat. His forehead falling to rest against yours, the insatiable want you had just voiced was one too sinful, one too familiar and yet untouched in years.

“It’s been long pet, perhaps we should wait before using you so…” the excited smile that adorned your lips downturned entirely to a frown and pout. You nudged your nose at Daemon hoping he would agree, convince Harwin that you could do it.

“Please, I’ve been so empty,” you reached forward to palm at Harwin’s crotch. He hissed, succumbing to your eyes per usual.

“If you are hurt-“

“I will tell you, I promise,” you perked up once more.

Your arse soon oiled slick as you laid engulfed between both men, what began with little resistance from your part, with no hurt or weeping. Both took turns pistoning at your hole. Just as Daemon breached your rosebud as Harwin’s cock remained nestled in your cunny, you peak swiftly washed out you. Yet perhaps an hour or even two after you pushed against Harwin, weeping and dizzy as you recovered from yet another peak. There was no place to run as your laid sandwiched in between Harwin, your leg thrown over his thigh as Daemon fucked your bottom from behind.

As though performing tricks both took you apart in the filthiest of ways, Harwin showering you with compliments as he moaned and coddled you with each thrust, Daemon - Daemon left no word unturned within the crass knowledge of his words. His slut, his whore that he trained from firsthand. His palm curled against your throat as he fucked your arse raw; “there’s no running ilbitsos,” he grunted against your ear. “You love this, arse gaping for me to fuck, cunny sopping wet for Harwin.”

Your mouth parted to perhaps mewl some more and construct a sentence yet your tongue felt heavy, “seems we might have fucked our sweet girl daft,” Harwin added, pinching at the pebbles nipples brushing against his chest. Daemon laid two sharp smacks on your rear to elicit an answer, you weren’t sure if you did or perhaps if it was coherent. You blinked away tears as you rambled about loving their cock or being the silly whore but little mattered against the building pressure in your belly, yet again.

“Shh, just let it happen,” Harwin groaned as he felt you fight against them again, there wasn’t a warning this time. Harwin in turn curled his palm around throat as Daemon lowered to pull in your belly towards him while the other free hand found your engorged pearl, unsheathed from its hiding as he flicked his thumb at the throbbing nub. He could swore your arse pulsed the same way the pink coil of nerves did. You screamed, crying out as the fucked you only that much harder. There was only moments of pleasurable agony as the flow of your peak burst right through, literally.

“Fuck, she’s going to milk my cock dry,” Daemon exclaimed, “dumb slut just hungry to be filled with noble seed, isn’t she,” he groaned feeling your peak drench his cock and the sheets bellow as Harwin and him fucked your pliant body through the finish. Their own cocks soon after twitching to completion as they intertwined their hand with one another’s, sticky warm seed flooded your cunt and rosebud, they heaved in unison and you - you were gone. The brunt of the peak pulled you far away from shore, your breathing the only indication that they indeed had not fucked you to death.

When you awoke, your limbs no longer tingled but you were warm, and heavy. You heard shuffles of feet, the sound of wood - doors opening and closing until your eyes opened. Your body curled tightly against Daemon as you sat in between his legs, dozing to consciousness from the thorough exertions they put you through you whined once more. “Shh, it’s over sweet girl,” he whispered, his fingers caressing your arms. While Daemon wasn’t one for words he was sure to purchase another necklace for your efforts tonight.

Harwin from the other end rubbed a wash cloth against your face, washing away the tears, drool and snot covering your face. Whispering sweet words as he always did as the attendants stripped the linens for fresh ones. Only this night there was no need for a fresh stoked fire for you had both laying on either side of you.

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personasintro · 1 year

Text

selfish love | myg

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; we're all a little bit selfish sometimes

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yoongi x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: infidelity au, smut, angst (?), drabble

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, oral sex (f.), some biting (nothing too drastic), ch*king, rough and unprotected sex, creampie, mirror kink, public sex (kinda?), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, cheating

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k+

𝐚/𝐧: feedback is always appreciated <3

Min Yoongi looks divine in a full on black suit, fitting right in with the filthy rich people wearing designer's clothes with their noses upwards, thinking they're better than anyone else. Rings adorn his long slim fingers as he brings a champagne glass to his lips, tasting the expensive taste of Bordeaux from 1990.

It's the same you're having in your hand, but you've never been a wine person who could appreciate the true taste of a vintage wine.

From across the room, he stands tall and confident, keeping his face serious as he talks to a considerably older man who could surely be his father's age. Even though his words are unheard to your ears, everything that comes out his mouth seems to be just as confident as his appearance is.

His hair is long enough to cover the back of his neck, the middle parted and tucked behind his ears as he shoots a polite smile to the man's wife. One thing is sure. Even in a room full of young men, screaming fortune and power, he stands out and he's undeniably the biggest catch of the night.

Just as the amount of men surround the ballroom, so do women of any age. You catch some women in their fifties ogling Yoongi – not that you blame them – but you hide the upcoming smirk behind the rim of your glass.

Turning to the tall tables where any kind of posh food is displayed, you decide to end your momentary watching of the scenery. You hate big crowds. Especially this kind where it's an obvious act of faking interest, kindness and friendliness. Not to mention everyone seems to talk about their fortune.

Where they're going on their hundredth vacation of the year, what a big house or mansion they've built and things like that.

After a few years of attending these, someone would've assumed you would get used to it. You haven't.

“I wouldn't go for the strawberries. The chocolate on them tastes like shit.”

Glancing sideways, your lips twitch to an amused smile at the sound of Yoongi's velvety voice and most importantly, the explicit language no one dares to speak in here. Not that there's anyone in earshot to get scandalized by it.

You shouldn't be surprised though. Yoongi is not one to particularly care about this. Still. Even you and him have to play some part.

You're met with amusement dancing in his dark eyes when you still pick the strawberry, tasting the fruit and chocolate. His eyes momentarily fall down to your lips, watching you take a bite of it as you hum.

“I don't remember asking for your opinion.” you hum, reaching for your glass you've placed on the table.

A low chuckle rumbles out of his chest as he hums. “Sharp.”

That makes you laugh silently. “They taste delicious. You should try them.” you feign innocence and sweetness in your voice, sharing an eye-contact for a moment as you lick the corner of your lips.

Yoongi watches the movement with darkening eyes, not giving you any reaction knowing there might be people watching. You never know.

His name is called out just as you brush past him, the scents of you mixing into thin air.

Hurried and panting breaths fill the vacant bathroom, one that's not meant to be used by tonight's guests and surely not in this way. The click of a lock follows, enough to make your insides flutter in excitement. Lips meeting and teeth clashing in a frantic kiss make you greedy and eager for more. Your lipstick is ruined, covering Yoongi's mouth messily and the little bit of his cheek as well.

You giggle, his lips curving into a knowing smile before he goes down to attack your neck with the same amount of eagerness.

“Yoongi, you're gonna stain me.” you complain, though make no movement to protest any further as your lower back meets the edge of the sink.

“Gonna clean you up later.”

Whatever that means, you don't bother to explain it's an unnecessary waste of time. Because you don't have time. Hundreds of people are inside the ballroom, more of them outside mingling. It's just a matter of time before someone notices you or Yoongi missing. Though accusations are mostly left unsaid, you can't have any scandals.

You might suffer insults behind your back, but it might damage not only Yoongi's reputation but his company and business too. There's too much to lose. Even with knowing this, you afford to get selfish sometimes.

You yelp, giggling as soon as Yoongi grabs you by the back of your thighs, hoisting you to sit on the counter. He's kissing you again, biting into your lip showing his thirst and hunger. As soon as you feel his fingers between your legs, dress bunched up at your waist revealing your underwear.

Black. Yoongi's favorite.

“Fuck.” Your back meets the mirror that covers the entire wall, eyes closed and mouth open as Yoongi circles your entrance with the tip of his fingers.

Finding you wet for him, he chooses to kiss you again rather than show his cockiness of your current state. You both know it's for him only.

He pushes your panties aside before pushing two of his fingers into you, wasting no time in teasing you any further. That alone makes you gasp, one hand gripping the edge of the counter while the other is buried in his hair, tagging onto his black locks. God, you love his hair like this.

He fucks you with his fingers, the sensation making your toes curl. You could cum like this in no time, but instead, you gasp out Yoongi's name. “No time.”

He growls, knowing the raw truth of reality and he's forced to pull out his fingers covered in your wetness. “When can I take my time with you?” he complains under his breath.

Despite your heart roaring with sorrow, you let yourself chuckle lightly. “Yoongi, less talking, more action.”

Looking up at you, his eyes dance with mischief as he takes off his suit jacket, quickly hanging it on the hanger beside the door. He's back between your legs before you can blink, sliding off your panties as he grabs your thighs and pulls them more apart. You gasp at the stretch and yelp right after when he tugs you to him. Thankfully, you've caught yourself just in the right time.

Yoongi cackles at your glare, kissing your thigh and that alone makes you bite your lower lip harshly, preventing yourself from moaning. And then Yoongi bites into your skin gently, your thigh flinching but thanks to his tight grip, he holds you in place.

“Less talking, more action,” he mutters mockingly, making sure he glances back at you. “Sharp.” he says simply, causing your lips to twitch.

“Aren't you used to it by now?” you jokingly breathe out, a tongue darting out to wet those delicious lips of his.

Your chest tightens at the unholy sight of Yoongi – and he's still fully clothed. Instead of saying anything else, he adjusts you one more time to his liking before you feel that insane mouth at your clit. You'll never get enough of the sight of Yoongi on his knees for you, face buried between your legs and lapping at your wetness. And then he lifts up his head, wicked smile visible as he says;

“Rushing me, but you're not stopping me now.”

He has a point. The cheekiness causes you to breathe out a laughter, breath turning erratic. The thing you would risk for this man.

“You love getting this cunt eaten out, huh?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He's so right and he knows it too damn well.

Luckily, Yoongi realizes that you're running out of time and as much as you want this to last forever, it simply can't. You're already playing with fire by sneaking out.

A set of cursing escapes your lips, despite you've been biting on them rather harshly to not make any loud noises. But it's his fault because Yoongi is sucking, making out with your cunt before he fucks you with his tongue. Not even two minutes later, a broken moan resounds and you arch from the counter, cumming on Yoongi's tongue.

Your skin is hot, no burning from the intense sensation as Yoongi laps at your wetness and cum. It's been too long. Grabbing his expensive shirt, you tug him to you and he happily obeys, grabbing the back of your neck before kissing you harshly.

Moaning into his mouth, you fumble with the belt of his pants. Eager and hungry, Yoongi helps you and pulls himself out of his boxers. You hold yourself back from rolling your eyes in pleasure at the sight of his hard cock. Veins poking from the soft and thin skin as it shamelessly stands upward, slapping against his stomach.

You wish you could take the shirt off, see his beautiful skin, chest and stomach under the material. Not wanting to focus on the disappointment of the reality, you adjust yourself for Yoongi as his eyes stay on your cunt as he pumps himself. Fuck.

“How do you want it this time?”

Such a simple question, yet you find yourself stumbling over your words.

“There's no time.” you remind him.

But he ignores you, a frown settling on his face as he asks again. “You want me to fuck you or make love to you?”

It's silly. He is silly. How can he possibly make love to you in someone's bathroom? Not when time's ticking.

“I'd much rather prefer you taking your time while making love to me… than here in this bathroom.” you point out, Yoongi's hand cupping the side of your face, thumb brushing against your cheek in a tender caress.

“I can make love to you anytime and anywhere.”

You chuckle at that, “That anytime part is not that true.”

“That… might be the truth,” he confesses, your brow arched in a teasing manner as Yoongi cracks a smile. “But don't tempt me, love.”

Your noses bump into each other as he kisses you harshly, your insides trembling and so does your cunt when you feel his tip poking your inner thigh. It's just a reminder of how badly you want him.

“So what's it gonna be?”

Your answer is clear. “Fuck me.”

A second later and he doesn't waste any time in guiding his cock to your entrance. As soon as the tip enters you, you moan loudly which causes Yoongi to shush you. Entering you hurriedly, his eyes check your face to make sure you're alright. As he gives you a few seconds to adjust to his girth and size, he pulls out just to smack his cock inside you again. He thrusts into you with so much intensity that you think you're not going to be able to walk.

You most likely will feel him for the rest of the night. It's something you should've come to terms with. And you have. You knew damn well what's going to happen when your eyes met across the room. You excused yourself from the group, shortly followed by Yoongi hot in your tracks.

The moment he caught you, he wasted no time in bringing you to the first room that's far enough from the main commotion. Which happens to be this overly expensive bathroom with shitty dim lightning.

“I'm so fucking close.” you whine, walls stretching to Yoongi's thick cock.

He pulls out, getting you off the counter as you messily land on your heels. Soon turned around facing the mirror. Your hands automatically grasp the counter again while Yoongi pulls your ass to him, positioning you so you arch your back for him.

You lift your gaze, meeting Yoongi's eyes as your breath hitches. He shoots you a handsome smile, a strand of hair almost falling into his hair as he enters you again.

One hand on the back of your neck, the other holds your hip as he starts thrusting over and over again. Your eyes roll back, not being able to stare at the explicit sight of you two any longer.

“Open your eyes, love.” he prompts you.

Forcing yourself to open them, your breath hitches again. Yoongi brings his hand to your neck, wraps it around it as he prompts you to straighten yourself. You do, all while Yoongi's fucking you. And then he squeezes your neck.

The silver band on his ring finger shoots lasers at you as you gulp, closing your eyes for more reasons than one. Yoongi's grunts are the greatest melody, echoing in the bathroom as it gets mixed with your own gasps and moans. Skin slaps against skin, giving away your sinful acts.

“Cunt so fucking good.” Yoongi grunts, your walls tightening which makes him quicken up the pace.

You barely hold yourself on your feet, stumbling as your palm meets the cold glass. Fingerprints on the mirror, you see yourself in the reflection completely fucked out. Lipstick smeared, most of it on Yoongi's lips and face as your mascara smudges under your eyes. You'll have to clean up, completely aware of not having your make-up bag here which makes the task harder. You'll have to improvise and do your best, hoping no one would question your messy appearance. Well, you hope you'll be able to clean yourself nicely with no traces of what's happening right now.

That's the least of your worries now.

Your entire body trembles as a powerful orgasm overcomes you. Gasping loudly, you're sure Yoongi's name leaves your lips repeatedly, he grunts and bites into your exposed shoulder where the straps have fallen down. Reaching his own orgasm right after, hips faltering and thrusts sloppy, he shoots his cum inside you.

You moan at the fullness of him, already feeling some of his cum streaming down your thighs. He pulls out, but not before delivering a tender kiss to the spot where he bit you.

There's not much time for coming down to your individual orgasms. As soon as you get your breathing in check, Yoongi tucks himself back to his pants, buckling them as he helps you with your dress.

Though there's a silence – moans, grunts and skin slapping no longer heard – the moment is sweet. Even though there's a realization of reality.

“Go.” you tell him softly.

He doesn't.

Instead, Yoongi turns you around by your waist, wiping your under eyes.

“Yoongi.” you mutter, ushering him to leave.

He presses a delicate kiss to your lips.

“I need to retouch my make-up.” you whisper, wiping your lipstick off his cheek. No evidence.

He nods, pressing his lips tightly together.

“The strawberries do taste nice. And the chocolate.”

You give him a look. “Huh?”

“I tasted it on your lips.” he says with a cheeky smirk.

You playfully roll your eyes.

“Though the taste was tainted by the wine.”

“Oh shut up,” you laugh, pushing into his chest softly as he backs away with that sexy smirk of his. “Go first. I'm gonna clean myself up.”

Yoongi smirks, knowing make-up is not the only thing. His cum is soaking your panties and your thighs are sticky.

“Go.” you usher, hearing the lock click.

With one last smile, Yoongi leaves the room and closes the door after him. Left alone, you usher yourself this time to make yourself look presentable and clean yours and Yoongi’s mess between your legs. Or more like what's there to be saved.

Five minutes later, you come to the ballroom, acting unfazed as if you just didn't spend your time being fucked in one of the bathrooms. You quickly went to the room where everyone's coats and purses are held, and sprayed your perfume to cover Yoongi's scent before coming here.

With your head held high, you're waved off by your boyfriend. Forcing a gentle smile, you walk up to him and have him circle his arm around your waist, touching your crimson red silk dress.

“Sorry, Mr. Son would never shut his mouth.” Namjoon apologizes, delivering a kiss on top of your head as you force yet another smile.

Across the room, your eyes automatically meet Yoongi. There he is. Standing with his wife next to him. Similarly to you, Yoongi has his arm around your sister's waist. It rests on her lower back.

“It's okay.” you manage to say, averting your eyes elsewhere but not quickly enough when Yoongi's name is called out on the stage, and you witness him kissing your sister's temple affectionately as people around them beam at the young married couple.

Yoongi walks up the stage confidently, bowing to the crowd as he adjusts his suit. His voice booms through the entire room, your hand automatically reaching for the glass of wine Namjoon offers you.

“First of all, it's a huge honor for me to stand on this stage…”

You watch Yoongi giving his speech, feeling Namjoon leaning toward you as his lips brush against your ear. “I'm planning to ask your parents for your hand in marriage tomorrow after the dinner.”

You choke on the champagne, covering your mouth with your palm. “Pardon?”

“I know you've been fucking Min Yoongi behind my back.”

You gape, “Namjoon–”

“So I expect you to say yes when I ask you tomorrow.”

You're speechless, not breathing as your heartbeat drums in your ears. Yoongi's voice fades away while he stands proud and tall on the stage, shooting a handsome smile at the crowd as your face pales within seconds.

Well fuck.

You're utterly fucked.

#networkbangtan #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #bts smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #yoongi fanfic #personasintro

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joelmillersmistress · 8 months

Text

☆Happy Ending☆~ 3k

Joel Miller x Massage Therapist!reader

Warnings: 18 + , p in v, blowjob

An: This is the first fic I've ever written. Please be gentle, but comments are always appreciated!

Your feet were beginning to ache. You glanced at the clock and saw it was almost three in the afternoon. It had been a busy Friday so far, but you were grateful, at least, that you could work inside. Your little room was warm, the smell of essential oils lightly filled the air and the soft lighting just added to its calming ambiance.

Sighing, you took one last sip of your now tepid tea, and made your way back to the staff kitchen. You rinsed the cup and left it to dry; patted your hands dry in a towel, and headed back to reception. The waiting room was as full, as it had been all day. All three sofas were taken; all here for one treatment or another, all eyes looked up at you expectantly to see if it was their name you would call next. You went to the desk opposite and picked up the form for your next client.

"Mr. Miller?" You called out.

Joel abruptly stood at the sound of his name being called. As calm as he may have appeared on the outside, inside he was burning with embarrassment as all the ladies surrounding him looked up, quizzical looks on some of their faces as if they had never seen a man in a beauty shop before. He couldn't blame them, he wouldn't have ever dreamt of being here, let alone having a massage, it was always something he perceived as being a girl's thing; but his friend had sworn by them, and after all his long years doing heavy labor, he was sure his muscles could use the help.

Finally, he locked eyes with the person whose voice had called his name, and he was sure his mouth fell open. Oh man, why so young, he thought to himself as he took you in. For the last fifteen minutes, he had watched a bustle of older ladies filter in and out calling names and leading people off through the archway which he was sure he was about to follow. He was already feeling self-conscious about being here, he knew it was just his luck he would be called by the prettiest one here. Your hair was pulled back into a messy bun and you wore little make up, but it was still enough to enhance your delicate features. The standard pale pink tunic and cropped trousers they all seemed to be wearing as a uniform, hugged your perfectly formed frame and did nothing to hide the curves underneath.

"If you would like to follow me," your voice bringing his attention back to you, and he merely nodded as he followed you through.

You opened the door and indicated for him to go in first. He looked in awe.

"It's a full body massage today, yes?" You asked, and again he just nodded, taking in the bed in the middle of the room.

"If you would like to take off your clothes, leaving your underwear on, and lie face down under the blankets, putting your face into the hole." You smiled reassuringly at him and closed the door. His mind spun back to the "leave your underwear on," and he felt stupid as he never wore any and hadn't thought to bother today. Shrugging, he undressed quickly, put his clothes in the chair in the corner, and got under the blanket, and marveled that the blankets were warm. No wonder women dig this, he thought to himself, as he finally put his face into the hole.

You waited outside the closed door until you were confident your client would be under the covers. You smiled at how uneasy he appeared, and gathered it was his first time having a massage. You had plenty of male clients, and for you it wasn't anything out the ordinary.

Lightly knocking on the door, you entered slowly, the way you had been taught to.

"Ready?" You asked softly, and when you heard his muffled reply, you entered the room, closing the door behind you. Gentle music played in the background, and you got to work. The first thing you always did was rearrange the blanket so it covered the client completely, it was hard to do yourself. You pulled the top hem to his shoulders and firmly brushed your hands across his shoulders, almost like you were pushing him flat onto the table. Moving to the side of the table, you did the same again, starting in the middle of his back and pushing one hand towards his head and the other towards his feet.

You took the top of the blanket again, and pulled it towards his waist, you went to tuck it into his underwear, which is something they all did to stop it from moving during the massage and to help protect their clothing from the oils. Surprise flickered across your face when you realised he wasn't wearing any. Without hesitation, you folded the blanket, picked up the warm oil, poured it onto your hands to check the temperature, and then down his back.

You slowly started to work the muscles in his back; feeling several knots which had formed across his shoulders.

"How's the pressure for you?" You asked quietly. Joel mumbled a great thanks, and you smiled as you worked through one knot after another. You could tell he had worked hard; his muscles were hard and quite unforgiving under your fingers. You worked his back, shoulder and neck muscles in turn, your hands moving through the sequence they just knew. He closed his eyes, feeling the aches leave his body with each passing moment.

Joel felt the sudden absence of your hands from his back and a hint of disappointment, as he felt the blanket cover his back again, although it felt warm and you pressed your hands across his back like before. He was surprised at the strength you had.

Suddenly, he was aware of the cooler air hitting his leg, and he realised you were lifting the blanket off. He knew you had already seen he wasn't wearing any underwear, and he felt himself blush again as he felt you carefully fold the blanket around so he was still covered. He hoped you wouldn't see anything else.

He felt your hands settle on his leg and could hear the rustle as you moved around the table and worked on his calf muscles. Closing his eyes again, he felt himself relax further as a different song drifted into the room, this one reminded him of being at the beach.

Joel's eyes opened when he felt your hands travel over his thighs. He could feel your fingers brush against the cheek of his ass, as you pushed your hands upwards from his ankles and then back down. He was now very aware of your movements as you came to stand beside him and massaged the muscles in the back of his legs. Every time your hands swept inside his thighs, Joel gritted his teeth.

"Okay, you can turn over now," your voice was soft and fear suddenly swept through him as he felt the blanket leave him. He knew you had lifted the blanket towards you so you couldn't see him, nor him you, this isn't what worried him.

What worried him became apparent as he shuffled around and onto his back, the attention to his thighs had caused his cock to grow solid, and with no underwear to tame it, it was now standing proud as you lowered the blanket back over him.

You tried not to notice the tent that was now evident in the middle of the blanket. You could tell by the blush creeping across his cheeks and his eyes screwed tight, he was embarrassed. It wasn't the first time this had happened, although it wasn't quite this noticeable usually. You carefully rolled the blanket across his legs, trying your best to keep most of him covered.

Standing at his feet, you began to massage his soles and toes, hoping this would help him relax again before you worked on his legs. You couldn't help but admire his broad frame as you worked. You applied a little more pressure with your hands as you rolled and pushed the muscles under your fingers.

After both legs were done, you folded back the sheet uncovering his chest and stomach. First, you worked his shoulders and neck, feeling them relax.

Joel held his breath as he felt you stand behind him. Your hands travelled lightly down his chest, then across his stomach, and back up where you circled his shoulders, pulling slightly at his neck. The second time, you pushed your hands further down and he could smell your perfume as you leant over him. The third time he felt your chest brush against him, as your fingers swept across his stomach right at the edge of the blanket. His cock twitched with every movement; but he was beyond embarrassment now, as he had never been so hard, or of needing release so badly.

He felt your fingers press against his temple as you massaged in small circles and then your fingers massaged his scalp. Head massages weren't something you would normally do, but you could feel how tense he still seemed to be, and you didn't want to end the massage with him not feeling relaxed.

Your fingers felt like magic and he began to feel himself relax, although as much as he willed his cock to go down, it didn't; but he stopped worrying about it. Finally, he felt you pull the blanket over him again; your hands firmly pushing on his chest and stomach.

"That's the end of the massage now," your voice bringing him back to the room, "stay laid down, relax, and I will go get you some water." He heard the door open, then close, and slowly opened his eyes. He sat up slowly, one leg hanging off the bed as the door opened, and you came in carrying small plastic cup of water.

"Here," you handed him the cup and he reached out to take it without looking. It felt like electricity shot through him as his fingers touched yours; your gasp was audible in the quiet room. Without hesitation and before he knew what he was doing, Joel's arm snaked around your waist and his lips were against yours. The cup of water fell to the floor between them as he searched for your tongue with his.

Suddenly, gasping, you pulled away. Your eyes were bright, your face flushed as Joel took your hand into his and pulled it to his lap, groaning as he felt your fingers against his hard cock.

"I can't... my job..." you panted, although you didn't move your hand as you let it go.

"No one will know," he said calmer than he felt. His heart thumping in his chest.

You struggled with your body as you weighed up what to do. His kiss had taken you by surprise, but it had ignited in you something you hadn't felt for a while... desire. You could lose your job if anyone found out, but as you looked at him, watched his breathing coming quick, his cock hard in your hand, you had already made up your mind.

"Lie back" you said. Your voice had lost its softness, and he did as you asked. Picking up the oil, you squirted some in your hand, as you watched him push the blanket off revealing everything to you. He was bigger than you thought.

Slowly, you wrapped your fingers around him, slowly moving your hand up and down his length. His moan was loud, as you felt him twitch in your hand. You smiled, this would be okay; you would help him cum, he'd be happy, and that would be all that happened, you told yourself.

Soon, you found a tempo that he liked; you could tell by his breathing that it wouldn't take long. You kept your grip steady and firm as your moved tour hand rhythmically up and down.

"Shit," he kept panting over and over.

You could tell by the way his cock jerked and his balls moved that he was close. You looked around for a towel, but there was none on hand. Before you could think, you leant down and took him into your mouth.

Joel nearly came when he felt your tongue swirl around the head of his cock.

"Fuck," he muttered and held it back, wanting it to last a bit longer. He pushed his hands into your hair and lifted his hips in rhythm with your mouth. He felt your groan as it vibrated down his cock and it was his undoing. He lost control of his thrusts as he came hard in your mouth.

Joel opened his eyes and saw you smiling at him. Your hair was a mess and your mouth looked swollen. He sat up pulling you to him, his lips on yours and you opened your mouth for him to explore. His hands travelled down your back and grabbed your ass, it was firm and he was rewarded with a whimper.

"Undress," his voice hard and direct. You looked at him for a moment, unsure. He cocked an eyebrow at you and watched as your fingers went to the buttons along the side of the tunic. Slowly you undid them, one by one, until it fell open and he could see the white lace of your bra and your nipples poking through. Next, you pushed the bottoms down and he could finally see all of you. He stood off the bed, picked you up with ease, and pressed you against the wall. His cock nestled hard against your stomach as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He ran his lips and tongue along your neck before dipping his head and sucking your nipple through the lace of your bra.

You bit your lip to stop the sounds from escaping as he devoured your nipples, one after the other. Slowly, he lowered you to the floor, your legs were shaky as he kept one arm around you as he led you to the bed.

"Put your hands on the bed," his voice still commanding and you did as you were told. He stood behind you and you felt him as he pressed against your ass. His hands came around the front and pulled your bra down under your breasts, pushing them up and together. It wasn't overly comfortable, but you were more distracted by the feeling of him pinching your nipples between his thumb and fingers.

You felt him move as he knelt down behind you, pushing your legs apart, he ran his hands up each side of your legs. Hooking his fingers into the band of your thong, he slowly pulled them down to your ankles, your arousal evident. He couldn't stop himself as he leant forward and ran his tongue along your folds.

You whimpered and felt your knees give way a little. You held on to the bed as you felt his finger slip between your lips and across your aching clit.

"Please," you begged, as he circled your clit over and over, his tongue softly stroking the entrance to your pussy. You felt him grin, and then felt his tongue go rigid entering you. You wanted to scream, but knew you couldn't, as his onslaught continued. With his pressure on your clit and the feeling of his tongue fucking you, you felt your orgasm build in your toes and wash over you as your body began to shake.

Joel felt your release wash through you. Abruptly he stood, and as you came, he pushed his cock into you, feeling your muscles quiver around him. He gave you a moment to adjust to him before he began to move; his thrusts slow and deliberate to start with. He loved feeling his cock hit your hilt as he rolled his hips, pushing himself deeper into her.

As you began to meet his thrusts with your own, Joel thrusted harder, deeper, without pause. Pulling your hips towards him, he parted your legs further and the new angle pushed him past your limit with each turn. The pain mixed with pleasure coursed through you, as he reached around and grabbed your tits roughly, massaging them as he fucked you hard and fast.

You came again, your whole body convulsing as you bit down on your lip, whimpering. Joel kept his thrusts steady and hard as he felt your pussy squeeze him tight. With a growl, he came inside you, filling you until it began to seep out and run down your leg.

Slowly Joel pulled out of you as he walked over to the sink. He found a small towel folded beside, grabbing it, he ran under the hot water. He stepped towards you as you leaned against the bed, trying to catch your breath, he pressed his lips against your jaw as he pushed the warm towel between your legs. You closed your eyes, your hands gripping the bed as you felt your body tingle again. Joel stepped away, cleaned himself over and dropped the towel back in the sink as he watched you pull your trousers back on and do up the tunic.

"If you get yourself dressed, I will wait for you in reception." Your voice shaky as you pulled your clothes together. Joel nodded and watched you leave the room.

The reception was almost empty when he walked through. He saw you bent over the desk, looking at the computer over your colleagues' shoulder, his cock stirring again at the sight of your tight ass.

"Mr. Miller, how was your massage? Would you like to book in another a date?" The receptionist asks as you straightened, your cheeks blushing. You weren't aware you were biting your lower lip until you felt his eyes on you. His gaze met yours as you watched his eyes darken as he booked in for another massage the following week.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #pedro pascal x reader #tlou smut

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crepezinhos · 21 days

Text

Kaeya’s and Diluc’s Magazine

(Masturbation Headcannons for Kaeya and Diluc, both x FEM!Reader)

KAEYA’S POV: You are Kaeya’s girlfriend and you two work together for the Knights of Favonius. You’ve recently sent into a mission without him and he’s missing you so much his brains gave him the perfect idea to satisfy his longing for it.

DILUC’S POV: You are Diluc’s wife and you two work together for the Dawn Winery. During an event at his home, Diluc felt a really weird Déjà vu when he saw you wearing a maid dress to fit the event and discovered through what it was.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is obviously NSFW piece

— Contains mentions of pornography

— Reader uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains kinky topics such as: masturbation, strip-teasing, blow jobs and roleplaying

KAEYA ALBERICH:

Kaeya isn't the kind of guy to masturbate frequently at all since he would have sex with you whenever you both felt horny. But you've been on that stupid mission Jean sent you for almost a month and Kaeya was starting to become impatient. He's a little addicted in having sex, but not enough to cheat on you or do bad things just to feel the sensation. So, for now, his only option was to wait for you to come back.

Kaeya sighed as he sat down in his bed. It was late and he needed to sleep early, but he just wasn't feeling sleepy. He missed you sleeping by his side or on top of his chest, your smooches, your smile... but for some reason, his sexual desires were screaming way louder. Kaeya shook his head trying to replace the beautiful memories he had with you, with quick flashbacks of the last time you guys had sex, about a week before the mission started. It was a simple quickie against the wall in his room, but that surprisingly was enough to get him excited.

His crotch slightly pulsed, urging for more, and Kaeya obeyed his body's wishes and dug further in search of more memories of you two having sex.

The more he'd remember, the more his body wished, so Kaeya just wouldn't stop digging.

But the perfect idea came to his mind.

You know... Kaeya's flirty personality started to grow on him when he became a teenager and started to experience hormones. He was silly, perverted and annoying enough to keep joking with his big brother Diluc's crush at that time: Jean, telling him dirty thoughts between Diluc and her, knowing he was too shy and embarrassed to admit he had his desires. But the peak of his puberty was when he decided to shoplift a porn magazine from a store with the unintentional help of his brother, that fell on the trick for being too innocent. It wasn't THAT pornographic. The magazine only had pictures of women suggestively posing in kinky outfits with dick-shaped objects. It didn't have boobs, lower parts or too much skin exposed at all, but the directors obviously made it teasing so the men would wish more and more to see what was under those clothes and buy more and more of their magazines.

Where did Kaeya hide it, you ask? Right under his feet! He wasn't dumb enough to simply put it under his bed or mix with other books in a shelf, he put it under his floor! As soon as that memory ticked in his mind, he jumped out of the bed and crawled in his 4s, immediately starting to quickly run and click the planks with his hands, looking for the trembly one. Once he felt one go shake up and down way too much for a simple click, he hooked the plank and threw it to a corner behind him of the room. The magazine jumped and bounced as a result of being closed tight after so many years. And as he finally put his both hands into it and pulled it out vertically, his eyes shone and a hand of dust fell out of the magazine.

Oh... what a relief! It wasn't damaged at all! No foldings in the corners, no cuts or holes, only the colors were damaged by time and were now pretty vintage. But Kaeya is a fan of it, so a smirk appeared.

He didn't waste his time and jumped back to his spot on his bed. Legs already spread open and page 1 opened. His smirk widened in nostalgia as he saw the first women in that pair of pages, but a flashback of him seeing the bunny girl in page 45 for the first time and falling in love with her beauty immediately, unconsciously led him to open the magazine on that page, skipping all the other ones.

And there she was! A white woman with her back arched, butt and a smirky face facing the reader while holding on a strip pole. Kaeya closed his lips and eyes, imagining the same woman but as his lover, pulling his dick out of his pants and leaning down at the same time. You looked terrifically sexy, especially because he could imagine your buttocks slowly moving. He decided to go further and made your back arch more and more into his direction, making his vision of your pussy grow, alongside the speed of his hands.

He also started making you say a lot of dirty things he always wanted to hear from you to influence his hands to go faster.

"Do you like what you see, Kaeya?" You said, giving emphasis to his name as you leaned your ass closer to him to it's limit. Neither you or Kaeya knew that he loved when his name came out of your mouth when it's sexual. It was his first time "hearing" you do it. Now he could only see your brown buttocks, the black pantie area of the suit barely covering your pussy and a hole between it and your tights where he could easily slide his cock into.

"Hummm... yes..." He moaned and his head arched back in the pillow as he changed his hand shape to make it look like he was thrusting your tights. An "O" shape with his middle finger and thumb. "Oh Y/N... you look so glamorous..." He pressed the magazine with his other unoccupied hand against his chest.

"And what if I did this..?" Your image said as it turned to Kaeya and kneeled in front of him.

Your unconscious movements caught him by surprise and were perfectly copying the image of the woman in page 69. That was a special page because of its number where there were many images of girls in 69 position with objects simulating dicks. Kaeya opened his eyes, taking a look at his own strength working to make feel him pleasure before pulling back the magazine to his face and sliding some pages. He managed to stop right at the page, so he instantly met an image of a nurse licking a fat syringe nearby the "patient's" pelvis in 69 position. Oh Christ, that made him groan... only if he had you doing that to him on that costume at the moment...

But that wasn't what you were doing on his previous image. So Kaeya slides some pages back in search of an image that looked like you and stopped at page 17 accidentally. The page only had a single picture of a bunny girl supposedly moving her big boobs up and down with a strip pole in the middle of them, simulating what Kaeya was doing: masturbation. That was a trigger to immediately change the image of you to exactly what the woman in the picture was doing.

"What do you prefer, Kaeya?" You asked, still kneeling and no context, with your both hands sneaking between your tights, waiting impatiently for his answer.

"Mouth... use your mouth..." He groaned in exhaustion of repeating the same movement over and over quickly. Sweat was beginning to run down his face.

His eyes opened again, in search of an image to simulate what your image was about to do. He remembered that in page 18 the same woman was licking a carrot suggestively. He carefully slid a page there she was. He moaned loudly in surprise and his eyes shut down immediately. There you were, licking his dick like a toy. Kaeya was already beginning to get close to his climax, so as long as he was loving to touch his dick with an O-shaped hand, he had to undo it because of the extra energy it needed. Every single second had effort put into it, so your image wouldn't suddenly disfigure and change to anything else when he was in such a serious moment.

But unfortunately, that was about to end with the closure of his climax. He sat up, focusing more in the moment. He didn't know how would he prevent his cum from blowing all over his recently put white sheet. But honestly, he couldn't care less, that wouldn't stop him from doing it at all.

He put the magazine aside, smashing it into the bed with his free and, that contributed as a support for his position. He didn't have energy to moan anymore, so his noises reduced to quick breathless hicks. And when he finally felt it, he leaned forward and put both his hands on top of his tip, preventing his cum from exploding everywhere.

His body collapsed in the bed after the feeling was over. Christ... that was exhausting.

After a very long sigh, he finally got up and walked to the bathroom to wash his hands. He also brushed his hair since it looked very unstable after that moment and finally returned to his bed.

He obviously felt tired but still not enough to sleep, somehow. So, before he actually tried sleeping, he decided to take a look at the entire magazine, for the nostalgia feeling after almost 20 years.

DILUC RAGVINDR:

Diluc is also not the type of guy to masturbate frequently. He isn't as sexually active as his brother, but still is a very kinky man when you two have sex. It's his ultimate dark secret, he doesn't even tell you the stuff he'd like to try for the sake of tradition. But, today, his instincts were screaming louder.

He's trying his best, he needs to finish those paperworks by tomorrow, but the images he was having were begging him to give hisself a break of work.

What happened? Well... today there was a festival in Mondstadt located at his winery and the female volunteers or participants had to wear a maid dress to fit the event. Technically, there really was nothing wrong with it, the dresses weren't inappropriate at all. But still, when Diluc saw his wife dressing it, he felt something... he couldn't describe it, but like a memory trying to break into his mind after many, MANY years. Most of the time, his eyes were staring at you, wondering what was so special on you wearing that dress. Until...

"Dude, you realize you've been staring at her this entire time, right?" The familiar voice of his brother scared him for a brief moment and he got angry at what Kaeya pointed out, but preferred to not answer.

"She kinda looks like-... actually, never mind." Kaeya suggested and Diluc was shocked to see Kaeya recognizing it faster than him.

"What? Tell me."

"Hum... I'm not really sure... it's kinda disres-"

"I don't care. Say it."

"Ok, ok! Do you remember that magazine we had when we were 16?" Diluc's eyes widened in shock and anger.

But... that's what Diluc has been looking for that entire time. The dresses really seemed identical, the pornographic ones were just way more slutty. Now... his problems start here. You and most of the maids were using brown leggings that censored most of the original color of your skin and he wondered if you were using a lingerie underneath that dress. He wanted to pull your dress up to see your pair of tights, but his brother was more worrying right now.

"How do you remember that..?" Diluc asked with a little bit of disgust.

"The maids were your favorite... I caught you simping for those maids MULTIPLE times." He answered truthfully but couldn't avoid the silly, low laughs.

Diluc's puzzle was finally completed. The image that he was looking for, came fresh just like it used to be when Diluc first read the magazine.

His favorite image. The one he'd always picture in his head when he was horny. The one he used to view Jean in.

It was a maid with her back arched and holding a broom as a support. There was a text above her "Punish me, master!" that perfectly matched her childishly teary face. There was also a man in the picture using a suit and with a single hand holding the girl's ass under her underwear, making it twice as teasing as the image was naturally. You couldn't see the man's face or neck as well, so the focus will be 100% focused on the maid.

You know who else also dresses elegantly just like the man in the image ever since he was a teenager? Diluc. That means, Diluc sees himself on the image more than anyone else. He has always been dressing suits and coexisted with maids. That doesn't mean he necessarily was dirty-minded to his maids, he actually never was dirty-minded at all. He'd only take looks at the magazine when Kaeya AND his father weren't home, just to make sure he'd be safe when he'd touch himself. Because only God knows how many times Kaeya caught him in the act.

Now, Diluc couldn't stop remembering the times he'd touch himself to that image and what did he imagine while doing so. Poor Jean was always the victim... but now, obviously all he could think of was you.

He could imagine you two against a wall, his clothed dick making contact with your buttocks while you said stuff he'd imagine as a child as well.

"I'm sorry for breaking your father's vase, my master~..." You moaned, taking a peak at him with your left eye.

Your face was red and teary just like the maid, hands gently touching the wall.

"I'm ready for my punishment..." You arched your back more and more, pushing and caging his dick between his pants and the vale between your buttocks.

His imaginary hand slides under your baby pink panties.

Why this color? Well... that was also the color the maid was using in the picture to make a contrast between the black and white palette (and attracting the reader's gaze).

He slowly pulled them off, making every single second of it painful to you. He didn't even bother taking it all off, he just left it hanging on your knees. You were already wet, favoring even more his job at the moment. And it didn't take seconds for him to completely get his dick inside you.

The real Diluc felt butterflies and accidentally grunted. Poor boy didn't even realize he had been rubbing his hand on his cock this entire time, still in his pants (surprisingly). He stopped everything to take a look at himself. The way his cock was THAT hard was embarrassing in his view. He’s supposed to be a classy and respectful man to everyone and especially his wife.

But his kinky self just couldn’t stay hidden in the back of his brain anymore.

Should he really do it? Right there? Right now?

...

"Ok..." He said to himself, closing the archive he was looking and pulling the picture he had of you closer to his gaze.

It was a beautiful picture of you and him in your marriage, the happiest moment of his life. He shouldn't use such a golden memory to picture you, but it didn't really matter anymore, he had already pulled his dick out and he'd do it for the sake of the pleasure he hasn't felt in years.

Back to the main part, there he was, thrusting you right in your weakest spots, very slowly, enjoying every single breathless moan coming out of you.

As the traditionalist Diluc was grown to be, he felt more pleasure being on top, and that was honestly his favorite position. He liked to make you tiptoe in order to kale you extra vulnerable against him, and that was exactly what he was doing to your image right now. You already had your panties hanged and now, both your legs.

Diluc put his hand in his face in order to mute his moans from the outside. It would be too embarrassing for anyone to see such a grown and respectful man doing things like that, so he really wanted to prevent anybody from coming in. He knew the door of his office was unlocked, so his eyes would stare it like a predator, ready to change positions if anybody decided to come in.

But the more his door didn't move, the more he allowed himself to go faster and harsher in his own body.

"M-Master Diluc..!~" You screamed, multiple times.

He released one of his hands off your hips and smacked your ass once and hard.

"Quiet down. I don't want us to be heard." He growled in your ear, sort of messaging his real self at the same time.

He was becoming frustrated. He'd usually become frustrated when you two were having intimacy because it was the main way he could de-stress after his long, hard-working days.

"P-Please~..! I-I can't keep quiet~..! You're going too hard~..!" You moaned, trying to turn your head to him desperately.

Diluc stopped thrusting.

"If you can't keep up with my rules, you will suffer more punishment." Diluc mired your defenseless figure breathing heavily.

"Master, please..!" Your voice didn't sound too breathless or pleasurable. That annoyed him. You're supposed to be begging, moaning and whimpering for him.

Without any warning, Diluc released a hand of your waist again and put it on your hair, pulling it to his direction, thrusting you harsh at the same time. The scream that escaped was insanely high your back immediately arched to its maximum again.

"Then, I guess you’d rather show everybody how slutty you are under your cute little maid dress." He whispered, increasing his pace as his hand on your head did not move.

You weren't holding back any of your moans, which made Diluc angrier and angrier. He released his right hand from your waist as well and started smacking your ass repeatedly whenever he felt you moaned too loudly.

Your head was barely functioning, it was too many things to process for your considerably tiny body. You could only moan and hold your drool until you'd reach your very late orgasm.

The real Diluc was becoming unable to hide some of his pants and groans. Even if he was containing his moans, it wasn’t enough to contain his volume. When Diluc noticed that his dick was starting to slightly ache, his eyes widened in search of the tissues he had in the corner of his table. His nose isn't too resistant to cold and he'd keep those tissues there so he wouldn't make pointless pauses during his working sessions. But for the first time he'd use one of those to something like that. He even thought about cumming in your picture to visualize his dirty thoughts better, but it was too golden for such a disgusting thing like what he was doing.

The more Diluc fastened his movements, the closer his head got his table, eventually laying it down from exhaustion. That was also helpful to quiet down his noises and less exhausting than keeping his hands in the air and making it difficult for his blood circulation.

After some seconds in that position, Diluc finally blowed. His free hand was quick enough to put that tissue he grabbed on top of his dick before the actual thing. He hissed and grunted until the whole orgasm was done and threw himself in the chair.

He kept staring at the rooftop meanwhile his breath slowly went back to normal. He couldn't believe he had just masturbated for a fucking link that he got after reading a porn magazine he hasn't seen in years. His eyes closed in frustration at himself.

It seemed that doing that actually helped him.

He felt normal again. No more dirty thoughts, no more porn magazines… it’s just him again.

Diluc sighed in relief. No one had caught him.

He also wondered if he should ask you tonight if you two could try new things next time you guys would have sex, like the scenario he just thought about. But that kinda made him feel bad. You were such a wonderful woman. You controlled the chores in the house, you decided what was dinner going to be, you prepared parties, you made some businesses around and way more! He felt terrible of asking you to take another burden in one of the few moments where you two could express and take all that stress out of your bodies.

But doing it in missionary over and over was getting a little boring in Diluc’s mind, now that he had thought about doing it step by step against a wall.

Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Duty calls him and he needs to read through and sign those documents by tomorrow. So he breathed in and lifted his chest again, beginning to flip through the pages of the documents he was messing some minutes ago.

“I mean… the worst she could say is “No”, right? It’s a 50/50 thing, so… she could accept it… right?” Diluc wondered his final thought to hisself while looking for the page where he stopped at.

#diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #diluc smut #diluc x reader #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #kaeya smut #kaeya x reader #genshin impact #genshin smut #smut

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ladykailitha · 6 months

Text

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 6

And we're back on this story. I didn't get as much Halloween stories in as I wanted, but there is still a week and half left in the month so I might get a couple of one-shots out before the big day. I have one with the older teens dressing up as RHPS characters for a midnight showing I'm part of the way through that might get done in time. We'll see.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

***

Eddie hadn’t seen Steve in close to an hour and it was starting to worry him.

He been bombarded with commiseration after commiseration from friends of his grandma and their families. All the Munson family was already here.

Almost.

As far as Eddie knew, Al Munson was still in some jail in Texas for grand theft auto. His third strike in the state of Texas. Who knows how many strikes he had in other states. Wayne wasn’t telling, and Eddie wasn’t asking.

He was standing there in his best jeans and nice black button up. It wasn’t what he was going to wear to the funeral, Wayne had raised him better than that. But he thought it was nice for a wake.

And it wasn’t as though Steve was dressed up either. He was wearing khakis and a grey Henley.

But all around him Eddie could feel the eyes of the other mourners, looking at him, judging him, and absolutely finding him wanting.

He stood in the corner, sinking further and further from view as he felt assaulted by their glares.

Suddenly there was a warm hand on his back and voice in his ear telling him to take a walk outside with him.

He let Steve lead him out of the house and onto the porch.

Steve pulled out a cigarette and lit it, handing it to Eddie and then lighting one of his own.

“You grandma must have been one hell of a lady to have that many mourners at her wake,” Steve said after a moment or two of smoking in silence.

Eddie snorted. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, pretty boy. This is just close friends and family. Tomorrow’s gonna be the real shindig. It’s going to be standing room only in the church.” He paused. “Ah, shit. That’s going to be okay, right? Going to a Catholic church?”

Steve scoffed. “Yeah, that’s fine. Not religious myself. Kinda hard to be when you’ve seen the worst of humanity and actual fucking monsters.”

Eddie look a long drag of his cigarette. “I feel that. Stopped believing in God when I heard that AIDS was one of God’s modern plagues against the unrighteous.”

Steve shook his head. “That fucking blows. I figure if there was a Jesus, he was like El, you know? Just extra human, no God required.”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah. I bet that’s what it was. Thanks for that.” He raised his cigarette. “And this.”

Steve bumped their shoulders together. “No trouble, Eds. I could hear what they were saying about you behind your back and I thought you could use the break.”

“You thought right, Stevie,” he agreed. “Not a Christian heart in a single one of those church goers.”

Steve hummed. “This is what I’m here for on this trip, okay? I will put myself between you and those hateful people.”

Eddie laid his head on Steve’s shoulder. “God, it’s on top of everything else, you know. The six hour drive yesterday. My aunt being a bitch to you even though you didn’t deserve it. Putting on my second best clothes and still not being good enough for them.”

“They look at you and see your dad, huh?”

Eddie froze bringing the cigarette to his mouth and turned to Steve in shock. “How the hell did you know that?”

Steve shrugged. “My parents used to throw these big parties for Christmas and their anniversary. Like BIG parties. Blow your uncle’s yearly wages on a fucking party, big. The last was when I was sixteen, right? And I could hear all the whispers about how much I looked like him and how I must be just like him. Booze, women, and lavish parties full of people that wanted to kiss my ass.”

The cigarette fell out of Eddie’s mouth and landed on his lap. He brushed it off quickly, cursing and patting at his crouch so that he wouldn’t get burned.

Steve laughed.

“Fuck you.”

Eddie stomped out the cigarette to ease his bruised ego. He huffed out a sigh. “Is that part of the reason for the attitude change? Because everyone credits Nancy and Jonathan for the cognitive readjustment, but it started before that.”

Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Before you started dating Nancy, you stopped the big parties at your house,” Eddie said. “Hagan told me it was because your dad caught you, but that wasn’t it, was it?”

Steve’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. “Holy shit. I didn’t even realize.”

“You started to clean up your act for Nancy, sure,” he continued. “But you started down that path before you started dating.”

Steve stubbed out his cigarette. “I saw you listening to Depeche Mode earlier when we had finished cleaning up the house...”

Eddie straightened up. He had listened to the tape. The song Lauren had queued up for him, especially. That one over and over.

“You into BDSM there, Stevie boy?” he said with a teasing grin.

Steve laughed. “Oh god, that one. Yeah, no, man. You know the song I mean.”

“You want to tell me what went down there?” Eddie asked. “Don’t spare Nancy for the sake of my feelings, okay? You’re more important to me then some chick.”

“She had a thing for Jonathan,” he explained. “Broke up with me for a month and then came running back. I didn’t think too much of it, you know? I was just happy that she was back. I tried to be the best boyfriend I could. I don’t think I succeeded. Then I made the mistake of using the words ‘normal teenagers’ because I wanted to go to some Halloween party.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. “She started drinking heavily that night. Like more than someone her stature should. I tried to get her stop and I spilled the drink all down her white dress. So we went to the bathroom to clean it up. She called me bullshit. Said our relationship was bullshit.”

“Holy fucking hell, dude,” Eddie whispered.

Steve shook his head. “I thought it was just a bad fight. Even though everyone at school was calling it a breakup. I didn’t believe it. I bought her flowers to apologize. Fucking roses.” He was on his feet and pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his hair. “But she wasn’t home. Oh no. Her and Jonathan were on a fact-finding mission. And a fuck finding mission, apparently.”

Eddie leaned forward in shock. “She slept with Jonathan?”

Steve stopped, frozen still. He took a deep breath and let it out slow. “I still thought we were dating. She didn’t. It’s why I don’t tell people. Because she thinks she didn’t cheat on me and I think she did.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at his stark white tennis shoes in utter despair.

Eddie was on his feet and giving Steve a huge hug. “Thank you for telling me. I get why the music spoke to you and I won’t begrudge anyone loving music that helped them through rough times, okay?”

Steve nodded into Eddie neck, trying to not to sob.

When Aunt Penny came out a while later she found both boys just crying into each other’s arms.

“Boys,” she said gently. “It’s time for the toast to Gina.”

They reluctantly let go of each other and wiped their faces with their hands.

Wayne handed them glasses when they entered the front room. Penny picked up her glass.

“To Gina Munson!”

“Salut!” they all cheered.

Eddie and Steve knocked back their drinks with the rest of them.

There was more socializing after the toast, but this time Eddie had Steve at his side and every time they glared at Eddie, Steve would wink at them causing them to flush in embarrassment and turn away.

Finally everyone had gone, the food had been cleared away and the mess cleaned up.

Eddie and Steve silently made their way to the room they shared.

“I wanted to thank you for earlier,” Eddie said as they slowly got ready for bed.

Steve straightened up from where he had been pulling on his pajama bottoms. “For what?”

“For everything, I guess,” Eddie murmured. “For fending off bullshit...not even relatives, but friends of the family, I guess. For telling me about Nancy even though it was clear you didn’t want to. For coming on this trip in the first place. I probably would have thrown hands already if it wasn’t for you.”

Steve pulled up his pants and padded over to him to pull him into a hug. “I do it for any of our friends, Eds. But I’m glad I’m helping. I’m glad that you told me you needed me for this.”

“Single best decision of my life so far,” Eddie mumbled into Steve’s neck. “Wayne thinks so too.”

Steve laughed. “Well if Wayne says so it must be true.”

Eddie chuckled. “He is pretty smart.”

They crawled into bed and faced each other under the blanket.

“What’s really bothering you, Eds?” Steve whispered. “I can tell there’s something bothering you, but I can’t figure it out.”

Eddie pursed his lips. “It’s the stares and snide remarks, I guess. I know that like back home they all think I did it. That I killed Chrissy and Patrick and Fred. That I’m just like my dad. Maybe even worse.”

Steve pulled him close. “We know the truth. Wayne knows the truth. The people that love you know the truth. You’re a bona fide hero, Eddie Munson. They can all burn in hell if there is one.”

Eddie shook his head. “It’s more than that, I think. It’s that despite seeing me for a month every summer, that they would even think me capable of such violence. I had grown up with these people. How could they think that of me?”

“Small-minded people will always think the worst of you,” Steve murmured. “I know, it sucks. But here’s the best part about being an adult. If you wanted to, you never have to see them again in your life. You can cut them out and that’s all the say they have in the matter.”

Eddie sighed. “Thanks.”

Steve just held on until they both fell asleep.

The day of the funeral dawned cloudy and grey as if nature, too, grieved the loss of Gina Munson. Cherished wife, beloved mother, and devoted grandmother.

Eddie and Steve dressed in solemn silence. Eddie pulled on a pair of black high-waisted trousers that he had found at a thrift store before they left. He put on the black button up from the night before and rolled up the sleeves. Over the top went a nice dark grey vest. He wore his nice, white sneakers. He strapped on bracelets and bangles on his wrists and chains and necklaces around his scar on his neck.

His wasn’t as noticeable as Steve’s but he had had enough of his grandmother and aunt’s friends eyes flicking toward it and sneering last night to last a life time thank you.

Steve was dressed similarly. The nice black slacks, the black button up (buttoned neatly at his wrists), a dark grey sweater vest. He wore a suit coat over the top and nice silver tie. His shoes were shined mirror bright and his hair artfully done.

Wayne, Steve and Eddie decided to all go in Steve’s car to the funeral. They pulled into the spots reserved for family and made their way into the church. As Eddie predicted it was standing room only. They walked all the way up the aisle to where the first row had been designated for the family, too.

They sat down and the service began.

Eddie sat there, tears streaming down his face, tucked into Wayne’s arm. Steve took his hand and held on as the Father droned on and on about the life of a good woman.

The pallbearers stood up. Wayne, Oliver, Eddie, Danny, and two good friends of Gina’s lifted her coffin onto their shoulders and marched down the aisle to “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” played on the organ.

They carried the casket out into the cemetery and slid her gently onto the straps that would be used to lower her into grave.

Eddie moved back to stand next to Steve and looked out into the crowd.

He stiffened as he spotted someone near the front of the throng of people paying their respects.

Steve followed his eyes to the man standing next to a portly fellow in a black suit.

He had dark curly hair shaved on the sides. He had a neatly trimmed beard that highlighted the sharpness of his jawline. His cheekbones were as hard as his jaw and eyes. It was the eyes that really struck Steve. They were the same color as Eddie’s but so, so cold.

He bowed his head and Steve could see that his hands were clasped in front of him.

Or so he thought.

The cold man shifted from one foot to the other and Steve could see the glint of the handcuffs.

There was no doubt on who this was now.

Allen “Al” Munson had been allowed to come to his mother’s funeral.

***

Pt 7|Pt 8|Pt 9|Pt 10|Pt 11|Pt 12

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee @dragonmama76

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #minor character death #dealing with grief

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