#Adam Driver x reader

[red-bullqueen88]

The feeling of his hot breath over my chest as he whispers of how he loves me and my body.

I didn't know what the feeling of man felt like until I felt him, the feeling of being able to be fucked and made love to at the same time.

I couldn't bear to be apart from him in any way.

It was like I was addicted to him, he was ecstasy, the feeling of alcohol that burned down your throat, you hated the taste but loved the way it made you feel.

- xoxo 💋

[hauntingoldhouses]

tell me it doesn't look the same and you'll be lying

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

adam designated driver

intoxicated!readerxcaretaker!adam

a/n: adam driver is maybe like the love of my life I hope he reads well. this is also an older fic but maybe 2020-ish?

wc: 2.3k

18+ MDNI | no smut but sexual themes

summary: Y/N went out and had a few too many, when trying to call a taxi driver, she taps her friend adam's contact instead.

"Can I get a whiskey sour?!"You managed to shout over the pulsating bass.

The bartender nodded, turning around to grab the bottles he needed. 

He was in his mid-twenties, sporting a thick beard and jewelry: trendy black stretchers, multiple rings on his fingers, and bead bracelets that swung from his wrists as he shook the shaker vigorously.

You observed his rings up close as slid your fifth drink of the night in front of you.  You shouted a 'thank you' and passed him the money. The chilled glass froze your palm as you grabbed it. You winced hissed.

You were already intoxicated, which resulted in you feeling warmer than usual. You began to drink your cocktail, wincing from the prominent bourbon taste hitting your tongue. 

Turning to the dance floor on your bar stool, you observed your friends dancing provocatively in front of the men.

They would grind on each other and kiss for the sake of attention as if their clothing alone wouldn't draw attention, and it would work every time. Men who were complete strangers would buy you and your friends multiple rounds throughout the night hoping to get lucky.

Tonight, you all wore matching tight-fitted black mini skirts and tops that barely covered your chest. Your outfit in question was uncomfortable, to say the least, but it was like wearing a costume. When you'd dress like that, it was as if you were a new person, for one night. You immediately gained a newfound confidence and your adventurous side would come out to play.

You grinned against your glass, chuckling to yourself.

How you loved being a woman.

You scootch off the seat, stumbling, trying to find your footing. Your sense of balance was terrible when you were drunk and your heels did not help with that at the moment. 

Eventually, you made your way to your friends on the dance floor, joining the small circle to include yourself again.

"Y/N! There you are, I missed you!" Your little blonde friend threw herself on you. You caught her in your arms, laughing. 

The six of you danced to the beat. Hips swaying, arms in the air, hair flying everywhere. You could feel the blood pumping through your veins, and sweat forming on your forehead, but you didn't care you were having so much fun.

our arms were raised in a state of intoxicated freedom as you tried to keep up with your friends, whose energy seemed endless.

Your fingertips tingled as you waved your hands to the rhythm, and your feet grew numb from the constant stomping.

Your head felt heavy on your neck, and your eyelids became harder to keep open. You were running out of breath.

Your movements turned sloppy as your body began to fatigue, even though your mind insisted you had more energy than you actually did. Your chest heaved, struggling to breathe in the tight top.

A couple hours went by and the club slowly began to empty out as people left in small crowds. The night was approaching its end. 

You were seated in a booth with fewer friends, all of you trying to call your drives home.

Your vision was blurry as you fiddled with your phone, trying to hold it properly.

The aggressive blue light blinded you. You squinted, opening your contacts app.

A few scrolls down and you found your usual Taxi Driver's phone number.

You pressed it, bringing your phone close to your ear. The ringing echoed loudly in your ears as you drunkenly awaited a response. He finally answered. 

"Ugh-mkay, uh I'm at thuh Sound Night Club.... on Las Palmas, can you cohme get me? I'm fuckhing drunhk." You slurred into the phone mic.

After a few exchanges, you hung up. "Welp ladies, my taxi issa comin soon so I gotta wait outside." You stood, steadying yourself on the table. You draped your jacket over your shoulders, clinging your wallet and phone to your chest. You gave them each a kiss on the cheek and said your goodbyes. 

Your heels padded on the tacky red carpet as you slowly made your way to the entrance. Before leaving you wished the bouncer a good night. "It's not my birthday, but thank you." He replied. You just smiled, confused. 

You pushed the heavy doors open, only to be greeted with a freezing gust of air. Your exposed legs were now covered in chills. The street lights illuminated your flushed cheeks; how nice. You leaned your back against the club's brick wall and waited for your Taxi. 

A shiny black Camaro pulled up to the curb, flashing its lights and honking its horn. You stayed put, wondering whose ride it was. It then honked again.

You just observed silently. 

The driver's door opened and a tall dark man rose from the car. "Y/N?" He shouted. You jumped slightly. This wasn't your taxi driver: You wondered who the man was, and how he knew your name.

Fucking trouble, that's who.

The unknown man was shouting your name. You looked around to see if anyone else was outside that you could ask for help; not one.

Fuck it, you thought.

You took a run for it, your cheap heels clicking on the cement sidewalks, and you gripped all of your belongings as if your life depended on it, and at that moment it did. 

The streets of Los Angeles were dangerous at this time of night, and you were the desired victim; a drunk, helpless, pretty girl in slutty clothing.

So much for being a woman!

The cold air breezed through your product-filled hair as you ran down an alley, only to be cornered by the car again.

You stopped in your tracks, shocked. Your heart pounded in your ears and your mouth was now dryer than a desert. You couldn't find your voice to yell for help.

The man got out again and started running after you, leaving his door open. The car lights blinded you, you could only see his tall shadow approaching you, quickly.

You once again tried to make a run for it but your heel fell through a manhole cover. You rolled your ankle and fell to your knees, your full weight hitting the solid pavement. You groaned in pain. The man rushed to your sides, as you cried on your hands and knees.

This was the end.

"Y/N! What were you thinking? You could've gotten seriously hurt! You could've gotten hit by a fucking car!!" The familiar voice gritted with rage. You lifted your head trying to identify this strange individual's face, only to reveal the face of your friend, Adam. 

"Adam? Why the fuhhck are yohu trying to kidhnap me for?" You slurred, trying to push away from his grip. "Kidnap? What? -Y/N, you called me from the club asking me to pick you up." He raised an angry eyebrow. 

You just broke down in tears, feeling lost and confused.

"You're too drunk." He grumbled, shaking his head.

"nO, I called, Denis. My usual taxi." You squinted, pulling out your phone to show him. Adam plucked the phone from your grasp and examined the phone.

"Y/N, it says Driver. Driver, Adam." He sighed impatiently.

"Oh, well, i swearr thaht I actually talked to hi-WOah!" Adam had cut you off by picking you up bridal style from the ground.

"Let me down!" You attempted to squirm but your lack of energy or control didn't allow you to do so.

"No, Y/N. You hurt your ankle. Now stop whining and let me take care of you. It's late- It's 4 in the fucking morning and you're acting like a child." He knelt down to grab your jacket that was at his feet and proceeded to place you on the passenger side of his car.

He then resumed his place at the wheel and sped off to his apartment. His car hummed loudly down the silent streets.

During the drive, you were quiet, your scraped knees were pulled to your chest and you faced your window, observing the lights that flashed by as Adam sped through the neighbourhood. 

You began to feel your soberness again because all the adrenaline was gone and the pain was now settling in.

Adam pulled into the parking garage and stopped the car in his usual spot. He turned off his vehicle and picked you up once more, this time with less anger. You toyed with the collar of his shirt as he carried you to his door. He had so many birthmarks on his neck.

Arriving at 11B, he managed to unlock and kick his door open. He used his elbows to switch on the lights and laid you on the grey sofa. 

"Do you need anything? Some pants, another shirt? Socks?" He spoke on top of you, trying to keep you awake.

"This outfit is too tight, Adamhm, can I borrow some long socks and one of your T-shirts?" You breathed out, with your eyes closed. Your head felt heavy against the firm couch pillow, it's like you were sinking in quicksand.

"I'll be right back." He said. 

You peeked an eye open to observe his apartment decor. It was minimalistic, with tones of light greys, topes and whites. Indie artists covered his walls, and colourful woven rugs were sprawled across the floor. He had lots of books on his shelf in the corner, you propped yourself up and dragged your feet to the library dizzily.

Poetry.

 Adam had lots of notorious poets in his collection.

He returned shortly.

"Here you go. Are you sure you don't want some shorts or sweatpants? They have drawstrings, so you can tighten it as much as you want." He placed the clothing on the oak coffee table that you were now making your way to. 

"I'm sure... thank you, Adam." You smiled unzipping your painfully tight top, exposing your red push-up bra. Adam's eyes diverted to the floor, he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

"If you need anything else, I'll be upstairs in my bedroom. It's the first door on your left." He turned to leave. 

"Wait, Adam!" You let the top fall to your feet.

"Yes?" He turned around, making only eye contact, trying to not observe your figure.

"You have poetry books in your library." You said, sliding your skirt off, leaving you in only your matching lace undergarments. 

Adam controlled his breathing. 

"I do, I do, uh, do you read lots of... poetry?" He asked leaning against his living room door frame.

"I actually used to write some and read them at open mic nights." You smiled, unclipping your bra swiftly, allowing your breasts to bounce out of your bra.

"Much better," You muttered.

"I-I uh, I didn't know that." He bit the inside of his cheek, face remaining unreadable. He crossed his muscular arms over his chest and fixed his posture. You could hear his foot tapping the floor, and you could sense uneasiness in him.

Oh?

Casually, you let the bra fall, like your top, and slid on his grey Star Wars t-shirt that he probably had received from a fan.

Adam was not one to watch let alone buy merchandise from his own projects. The Kylo graphic tee looked cute on you, it ended mid-thigh and wasn't too wide.

"I still write sometimes, but not as much as I'd like to, you know? What about you, do you write?" You sat on the low coffee table, knowing well, that Adam was struggling to keep his composure and slid on his long black socks that went up to your knees. 

"I do, but I don't think that it's good." He chuckled, trying to seem less awkward. You simply smiled at the statement and found your place on the couch. 

"um- you need some water and aspirin, I'll go get that for you." He said and walked out of the room, his heavy footsteps thumped on the creaky wooden floors. 

In one hand he had a big glass of iced water, and in the other, he had two tiny pills. "Thank you," you mumbled tiredly, washing down the medicine with water. "Need anything else?" He asked glancing at the time: 4:52 AM.

"No, I'll be fine, thank you, Adam. For everything. It's really appreciated. Also, I'm sorry for earlier, I thought you were trying to hurt me, it was dumb." You looked down at the glass that you held in your lap, in embarrassment. 

"You are...welcomed." He gave you a small close-mouthed smile before shutting off the lights and going upstairs to his own bed.

You tossed and turned on that shitty sofa. It was small compared to your bed at home and the throw blanket was too thin for your liking, you really wished you would've taken up that offer on the sweatpants. 

"Ugh, fuck it." You groaned, now fully sober and exhausted. 

You quietly got up and proceeded to make your way upstairs to the first bedroom on the left. You turned the doorknob slowly and pushed it even slower to avoid making any noise. You saw that his bedside light was on, and you could make out faint clicking noises. When you fully opened the door, you were happy to be greeted by Adam sitting shirtless in bed, typing on his computer. 

"Hi." You quietly spoke. 

He lifted his chin and met your eyes with his brown ones. "Hi." He gave you a toothy smile. 

"Can't sleep either?" You asked, padding towards his gigantic bed. "No, not really." He chuckled closing his laptop and placing it on his bedside table.

You sat on the foot of his bed, observing his thick chest and shoulders. He was a very attractive man, very large, he looked soft. You bit your lip at the thought.

"Come." He lifted the covers from the unoccupied side of the bed and tapped the mattress like when prompting a dog or cat to come sit next to you.

You obeyed and got under the covers next to him, already feeling his warmth.

You hummed in delight as he turned off the lamp. Adam laid on his side, facing you. You did the same, trying to focus your eyes on his face through the new darkness. 

He let out a tired sigh and without warning, he pulled your whole body forward. Your head was buried in his chest, his bicep supported your neck, and his other arm rubbed your back.

"Sleep, or you'll get sick tomorrow morning. "

You smiled and inhaled the scented body wash he used. You absent-mindedly pressed a kiss to his chest, making him hum lovingly.

A moment of thinking passed and he then tipped your head back, to place a long tender kiss on your lips. You returned the kiss, feeling his plump lips against yours in delight, sending butterflies in your stomach.

After, you returned to his chest and he placed another kiss on your forehead, drifting you slowly to sleep. 

oh adam, i'd die for you

[heartshapedbabydolls]

Charlie’s dirty little secret💋

[beskarinhyperspace]

This is an erotic audio, proceed with caution.

Warnings: dom & choked (with love). Nothing violent only obsession.

This can be GN if you like being called a good girl ;)

A/N: I'm sorry i haven't posted for A ripple in space for a while. I'm getting my life in order. In the meantime enjoy this little treat. xoo

[inklore]

sending a little commander mills thot 💖 stopping for the night in a dark, deep cave. sharing a bed roll quickly turning into something more, as you end up on your hands and knees beneath him. there’s a rattle of stones near the entrance and his large hand is pressing over your mouth to keep you quiet - his senses on high alert for danger. but even then, mills can’t help the shallow rock of his hips - unable to resist how good you feel

warning signs

pairing: commander mills x (f)reader

word count: 1.1k+

contents: unprotected p in v, creampie, small amount of dirty talk, i didn't classify what planet they were on but threats are occurring, slight enemies to lovers, rough.

note: i'd let this man have his way with me in an open warzone and i have no shame about it because this idea has me insane.

You should have known. 

You should have known this planet would be nothing but a bad omen when you had to emergency land on it. When you lost contact, your ship deciding to stop working properly. When the only way of getting out a signal was to rig the system built within the interface of the hunk of metal. Ultimately destroying any chance of getting out of here on it but allowing you to get out a weakened signal, you hoped your home planet would come and swiftly send someone to you before this planet showed just why it was inhabitable by those who walked on two legs and didn’t prefer the taste of game. 

You should have known that Mills would be the worst person to crash land with.

Should have known he’d only raise your blood pressure and have a permanent scowl curve your brows until it gave you a headache. 

And you really should have known that he’d be this big. 

His stature alone suggesting that was more to him than broad deltoids beneath those clothes. More than just deadpan looks and side eyes of scolds and warnings behind those iris’s. Behind the moments and trips the two of you have taken together over the years. 

You should have known that his cock would stretch you like this. Making your insides burn when he thrusts inside of you. Your walls accommodating something that’s bringing you pleasure at the same time it has you mewling in pain—something big and hot and heady that’s making your fingers dig into the dirt. 

Your back arched at an angle that has your body scraping forward against the ground every time Mills snaps his hips against your ass. His cock going deeper and deeper—the tip hitting that spot inside of you that makes your body want to run from him, want to escape the pleasure and the sting of him going past what your bodies used to—his nails digging into your hips. Moonshaped marks embossed in your skin as he holds your ass in place. As he refuses to let you squirm away from him.

Because you wanted this, didn’t you?

“You’ve been begging for it.” He says with a heavy breath. A groan mixed somewhere in there, you’re sure of it but can’t decipher it fully with how you sound. How the back of your hand is covered in your own drool and bite marks from trying to muffle the moans and whines coming from your mouth. 

There’s a rock under your knee that has left an imprint into your bone, has cut the skin with how your body is moving. If you focus on it hard enough, you may even feel a trickle of blood. Or the indents of stone and caked on dirt on your elbows. 

But all you can feel—all you can hear, sense, smell—is Mills and what he’s doing to you. What he’s doing to your body and how you never want him to stop. Never want to go back to the time when the two of you pretended there was nothing there. 

The thrusting of his hips imprinted on your nerve endings, and you can’t imagine a time, a moment, or a place where you don’t want him to bend you over something and take you. Have you. 

“Who knew all you needed was my cock to have you so compliant.” Mills grabs the back of your neck. His grip just as rough and embossed as the fingers at your hips. The weight of his chest drapes over you in a way that has you pushed further into the ground and your ass higher in the air, shoving his cock to the hilt, a cry falling from your lips. His name coated in a pleading whimper. 

“Next time you’re not listening to me, all I’ll have to do is fuck you, huh? Bend you over and fuck you until you’re ready to admit who’s in charge here.” 

There’s some part of your psyche that wants to fight against this. That wants to throw his words back in his face with something snide and angry, but you’re fucking pudy between his fingers, and he’s molding you into a perfect compliant hole for him. 

Into someone who wants to follow his orders just as long as they get his cock in return. 

But you still open your mouth to try to tell him just as much. To ask him to fuck you harder or agree with him, you’re not sure because it dies in your throat.

The words fall to the pit of your stomach as the both of you stop in place as your body feels the soft rumble of something moving outside of the cave. The rustling of trees, rocks, and branches being stepped on. 

“Mills,” you murmur his name. Soft enough for him to hear but apparently too loud for his liking as he shushes you. His hot breath against your ear, his hands maneuvering your legs so they’re underneath him now as he lays on top of you. The massive width of his chest makes you feel engulfed in him. 

His hair against your cheek, his breath held in his lungs just like your own. 

You try to listen. Try to hear anything approaching, growing closer to your indisposed state. The two of you not in a position to move as quickly as you should to protect yourselves. Mills not seeming to be as on edge as you are, the faith he has in himself to grab his gun quickly enough if whatever is outside moves in closer, is almost aggravating. 

Your mouth parts to tell him this, to push him off of you so the both of you won’t die while he’s still hard inside of you. 

But instead of an argument, a gasp falls from your lips as you feel Mills rock his hips against you. The tip of his cock pulled back to your entrance only to be thrust back in slow, and agonizingly sharp all in one quick rock. 

“Mi-” his palm presses against your mouth, silencing you.

“Shhh,” he whispers against your ear. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve been needing this, to fuck you.” His heavy breath and the deep timber of his tone as he tries to keep quiet, as he speaks the words for only you to hear, to know, and to feel, wash over your spine and lay achinly between your thighs where the shallow rock of his hips against your ass has your nailbeds housing rockbed as you try not to become a sobbing mess behind his hand. “You feel s’fucking good.”

And if the two of you were to die like this; with Mills rutting against you, his cock stretching you, his deep breaths and praises against your ear, your slick coating his length as you come, and his come leaking from you—leaving your pussy a warm and sticky mess as he continues to thrust inside of you even after the fact, as if he’s trying to keep all he can inside of you—then so be it. 

You’d die happy.

[strangunddurm]

Devout

Pairing: Flip Zimmerman x fem!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, fingering, masturbation, swearing, dirty talk, possessive, toxic behaviour

A/N: Started thinking about writing again and found this one hiding in my notes. Hope you enjoy! I've been thinking about wanting to start writing a lot again. My love for Flip is still there (I am forever devout) but I also have this desire to branch out so if anyone is still interested in my writing and have a character they want to read about, please let me know, I am literally interested in anyone and everyone at the moment.

It was common knowledge that Flip Zimmerman was utterly and completely infatuated with you. You were it for him. The one he would marry, build a house for, have kids with. You would be his end, but you were not his beginning.

It was also common knowledge that Flip Zimmerman was on an apparent path to sleep with everyone he could that wasn’t you. Fuck, finger, and fondle like he wasn’t an officer of the law and he wasn’t in a very public bar at that very moment. You could see his hand run along her leg, caressing it with the pads of his fingers before it disappeared beneath the fabric of her skirt.

She threw her head back, laughing like nobody was watching, but, of course, you were. Your eyes were always lingering on his figure, just as his were yours. He watched you as he traced the lace of her panties, as he dipped them under the fabric; he watched you as he guided her lips to his; he watched you as he shattered your heart, always knowing that the comfort of your arms would always be there to sooth him in the end.

You often found yourself wondering: why? Why weren’t you enough for him at this point? Flip had this ability where he could string you along enough so that you, yourself, would feel guilty thinking of another man. Your possible unwillingness weren’t the reason for Flip’s hesitancy to commit, it was his. The unwilling fool in love with the same person he had always loved. Or perhaps you were the fool? Two fools in love that could never let the other one go. Never let the other bask in the happiness that was freedom.

Your friends often wondered why you subjected yourself to the torture of witnessing his lips upon another’s. You didn’t know how to explain to them that you only existed because of him. However demeaning and desperate it sounded, it was true. Whilst others existed for bettering the world or something other, you were made just to be his.

You thought for a while that you could live without him. That you could break free from his hold and flee from the place where everything reminded you of him but it was impossible. It didn’t make sense, how a man could possess you so entirely with just a whisper of attention. You thought it to be your own fault; a bleeding consequence of hope that wrecked your heart beyond anyone else’s repair. All you could do was wait for him. For you would forever be missing him otherwise, regretting not taking the possibility of even the tiniest something. Of a laugh, of a smile, of a glance.

So, you found yourself there, putting on a front of indifference as you tried not to watch every stupid move Flip made in the arms of another. She was smug. It was so obvious from the way her eyes would flicker over to you every now and then as his lips caressed her shoulder or her neck.

She knew of Flip’s fondness for you, having seen the way he had given you a sliver of attention by the bar, letting his hand ghost over your hip in a touch that was anything but accidental before she had successfully lured him away from you and into her arms.

You were zoned out, barely hearing your friends’ voices as you stared hard at them. Your lip was near bloody from your nervous chewing as you, almost ritualistically, dragged your teeth over it again and again.

“How long are you going to keep doing this to yourself?” The words were spoken in your ear, your best friends arm coming to wrap around you, pulling you into her embrace.

“I…” She didn’t allow you to continue on the miserable spiel that she had heard so many times before.

“I don’t want to hear it. Not again. You need to realise that you’re worth more than whatever the hell this whole thing is,” She pleaded, pressing a kiss against your temple. “You have to stop doing this to yourself.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you sounded so fragile at that moment. Your voice wavered at the end, fading out as everything you felt became almost too much.

“Yes, you can. You just need to realise that you don’t owe him anything. Sitting here completely miserable isn’t going to make him change or do anything different.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve been here with you! Every night we go out to have fun, he comes along and ruins it.”

“No, he doesn’t.” You turned to look at her as you forced the words out harshly. But the look in her eyes made the feigned anger falter.

“I love you. You deserve more. Try to enjoy your life before you realise it’s too late,” She said, squeezing your shoulder.

Did you really deserve more? You had been caught up in the web of Flip for so long that you truly did believe that staying completely devoted to him was the only way forward. You knew he would eventually tire and stop indulging himself in others. It was an unconventional relationship, unfavourable to you in every sense.

But who was to say that you weren’t allowed to enjoy others? Just the way he were? An innocent tryst with another that would scratch that itch not even your fingers could ease late at night.

You let your eyes trail over the inhabitants of the local watering hole. There were the usuals there, sitting at the bar, nursing their beers. A group of frat boys were in the corner, cheering over shots. It wasn’t until a pair of dark brown eyes met your own that your interested was piqued.

You probably wouldn’t have dared made a move if he hadn’t come sauntering over. He didn’t walk like Flip. Flip’s walk was self-assured, dominating in a subtle way that permeated the air around him. This guy walked in a cocky way, shoulders swaying with every step as he though himself holier than thou. It was off-putting, but you thought you owed it to yourself to at least try.

“Saw you watching me over there.” His attempt at flirting was just as cocky as his walk.

“Oh…” The laugh you let out was awkward as you fumble for a reply. “Do you come here often?”

“First time actually, I’m here visiting my brother.” He motioned toward some guy in the back that you couldn’t see.

“That’s nice,” You said awkwardly.

He introduced himself as he took perch on the barstool next to you, shaking your hand weakly.

“So, what do you do for fun around here?” He asked, motioning for the bartender to refill both of your glasses at the same time.

“Ehm… Come here, I guess.” You waved your hand in the air, uncommittedly. Anxiety was flooding your nerves, practically inhibiting your ability to speak. You let your eyes trail over the room again quickly. Flip was still hands-deep in that woman’s skirt, your friends had slipped off somewhere else, getting lost in others.

The man, Chris, held a one-sided conversation without seeming to notice your less than keen interest. The thought of letting go and trying to flirt with somebody else was always easier in theory rather than practice.

It wasn’t his fault, if you were somebody else you might’ve enjoyed it. But all you could think about was the way his eyes were too dark, his hair too light, and his voice to high to remind you of Flip.

“Listen,” He placed his hand on your thigh. High up, bold, wanting. “I really like you, what do you say about getting out of here?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond before a chest pressed against your back.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.”

You felt faint hearing Flip’s voice rumble through his chest as he pulled himself closer to you. His hand wrapped around Chris’s wrist, forcing it away from your leg.

“Hey, man, we were having a conversation here.” Chris was foolish. It wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t from here, after all. He didn’t know the perfectly concealed rage that could simmer under Flip’s skin when he felt like he was being disrespected. He didn’t know that you were an object of possession that had already been claimed.

“I’m going to offer you a piece of advice.”

“Flip, don’t-” Interjecting was pointless. Flip did whatever Flip wanted.

“You should take your drink, go back to whatever lowly corner you came from, and stay there. Get it through your thick skull that you’re not wanted here.” Flip roughly pushed the glas of beer Chris had been nursing on the bar, it’s content sloshing over the sides as it almost toppled over.

The silence that followed hung in the air, permeating it, polluting it. It didn’t take long for Chris to visibly crumble under Flip’s stare but it was almost as if he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He didn’t want to give in to the menacing man that had appeared out of nowhere. Reasonable, perhaps, but entirely futile. Flip would always get what he wanted in the end, no matter what.

Chris left without a word, sparing you a pitiful glance before he was gone and all that was Flip took over your senses as he rounded you, coming to a stop so you were chest to chest.

You refused to look at him, staring straight ahead, focusing on the way his chest would calmly breath in and out as he waited.

“Look at me,” His voice was low, steady. You wanted to, of course, but you were stubborn. Just when you were putting yourself first, there he was again. A forever keg in your wheels, keeping you in the same place, wallowing in your loneliness as you waited for him.

His fingers were soft against your chin as he urged it upwards, making you look at him.

He was smiling. Not a full on grin, but that sweet, cheeky little smile that held so much mirth that you wanted to hit him. It’s like he’d been waiting for this, waiting for you to act out and finally do something for yourself. As if it was all but a game to him. A game that cost you your heart and in which he won your devotion without barely having to make a move.

“Wipe that smile of your face,” you hissed out. “What could you possible have to smile about?”

“You.”

“Oh, yeah, because it is so funny ruining my fucking life.”

“Ruining it?”

“Yeah, ruining it.”

“You should’ve just said something if you felt that way.” You almost laughed at that. It wasn’t like you hadn’t said something. It felt like all you did was talk, and all he did was not care.

“Cut me a fucking break, Flip. Don’t act like you don’t know what you’ve been doing to me. This- this game you’ve been playing, toying with my heart. One minute it feels like you might actually want me but then the next you go and fucksomebody else and I’m just suppose to pretend that it’s all fine?”

“It’s not?” He said, playfully.

“Fuck you.”

“Stop swearing, and keep your voice down.”

“What? So that your whore won’t hear us?”

“She means nothing,” He said

“So why do you keep doing this? Why keep stringing me along?” You were defeated. Your relationship with Flip was strange. Peculiar. Unexplainable in certain aspects as you yourself did not entirely know exactly what you two were.

You looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes as all the hurt you had felt over the past however-long caught up to you. He was looking down at you, as if in wonder. Was it possible that Flip Zimmerman was naive to the way he had treated you? To the way he had made you suffer? Had you been imagining it all in your head?

He didn’t look sorry, he didn’t sound sorry, but when the apology tumbled out of his mouth, you accepted it. Perhaps it was you who were naive but you wanted a moment of happiness with him. Even if it was a moment entirely clouded by delusion.

You nodded your head, a small movement of acceptance that made Flip light up.

Flip would always shine brighter than any star you had ever seen. He took your breath away and filled you with a rush of serotonin every time you gazed into his eyes for even a brief second. His eyes were like molten gold, blinding you as they tinkled. Devotion to him and only him was inevitable.

“Will you come home with me?” The answer was obvious. The question had been what you had waited for. Taking his hand and slipping out through the door before any of your friends still caught in reason could stop you.

His hand dipped between your legs, fingers mapping out a path to your most sacred place the second he pushed you through the door of his home.

"Look at you, already so wet for me." Flip chuckled darkly. He knew you couldn't resist him. Your need for him was as deep as his need was for you. “Is this what you’ve been waiting for?”

His lips met yours in a searing kiss that took your breath away. His tongue caressed yours as teeth clashed. This is what you had yearned for, his lips against yours in a way that promised no other.

His fingers toyed with your panties, teasing you. He knew how desperate you were for anything he would give you.

He took his time, teasing your more and more before he finally was gracious enough to slide a finger inside of you. Just a single finger to test you. You walls clamped down around him tightly, gripping him, coaxing him to give you more. He pumped it in and out of you slowly, so slowly that you thought you might lose your mind if he didn't give you something more, and you voiced so much.

"Please, Flip." What you needed was clear. But that didn’t mean Flip would be so easy to give in.

"You’ll get more, sweetheart. Don’t you worry.” He said sweetly before withdrawing from you completely.

"Flip-"

"You're so impatient." He chided you, tutting teasingly with a lazy smile on his lips. “Go to the bedroom.” He commanded whilst motioning his head in its direction. You were quick to obey, of course, feet moving swiftly as you stumbled your way on shaky legs through the halls and onto his bed.

You flipped onto it in excitement, eager for his touch once again.

“Is this what you wanted? To be one of my whores?” He asked as he undressed slowly, unbuttoning his flannel and letting his jeans fall to the floor before he took a stand by the foot of the bed. He trailed his hands up your legs equally as slow before grabbing a hold of your panties and pulling them off you. You couldn’t get any words out to respond, whining with need.

The evidence of your excitement was clear to him, almost dripping and shining in the low light. A sane man wouldn’t be able to hold back having a women presented so willingly to him with her legs spread wide and the skirt of her dress bunched up around her hip, chest heaving with excitement. And of course, Flip was a sane man, in some sense at least, for he was quick to crawl in between your legs and mouth attached to your clit.

Digging his fingers into your thighs, he hauled one of them onto his shoulder and connected his mouth to your sweet cunt.

The sounds of your breathless moans were intoxicating as he suckled your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the stiff nubb.

Your knees fought against his shoulders as your hand came to cover your mouth, willing any sounds to stay inside of you as you bit down softly as you were overwhelmed by the pleasure rushing through you.

“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart.” Flip praised in a panted breath before diving back in.

You fought to keep your eyes open as your hips moved up and down in a desperate attempt to grind your aching clit against his mouth and nose in search for that perfect sensation that would drive you over the edge.

Your hand slid into Flip’s hair, gliding through it before grasping a firm hold of it as a wave after wave of moans finally made their way out of you.

Flip had already made you come once when he slid his fingers into you, continuing his ministrations on your clit with his mouth. His movement were much rougher than what they had been before, thrusting them into you expertely, hitting that sweet spot of yours over and over again.

Your back arched into the air and mouth fell open at the overstimulation. It was exquisite.

“Oh, oh, Flip. I’m gonna cum.” You whined desperately. “Oh, God.”

You clung to his arm in an attempt to hold on to any sort of sanity but it was all for nought. Your legs spasmed as you came with a cry.

Flip tried to hold you down as he never let up despite your half hearted please, flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit again and again and again. He worked you through your orgasm, never relenting as your silent whimpers spured him on. You had such a tight hold on his hair that it made him groan, sending a wave of vibrations through you that caused you to gasp. He only stopped once your whimpers had grown in volume to a steady whine of pleas.

“You’re such a good girl.” Flip praised as he came up, hovering over you. “You gonna let me fuck you, sweetheart?”

“Yes! Please, Flip.”

He tugged at his hard and weeping cock a few times as he admired you. You were breath taking like this, legs parted, eyes hazy from your orgasm, cunt dripping, ready for him.

"You’re gonna look so gorgeous, covered with my cum." Flip's voice was husky as he leaned down and pulled you closer to him by your face before planting a sloppy, wet kiss on your lips as he came to rest between your hips, a single arm keeping him up.

He dragged his thick and cum weeping cock through your folds a few times, thoroughly coating it in your slickness. The anticipation was killing you. His fingers and tongue weren't enough, you wanted more, needed it.

You grabbed a hold of his shoulders, pulling him closer even to you in desperation.

"Please, Flip." You whispered, ready for him.

The sigh the both of you let out when he finally slipped all the way into your cunt was one of relief. You had missed this, had missed him.

Flip didn't give you time to adjust to him before he started pounding into you at a pace that was brutal in nature, just the way he knew you liked it.

“You’re such a dirty fucking whore.” He spat at you and you clenched around him in response. "Look at you, so desperate for my dick you could almost cry." He let his thumb run across your cheek in a moment of softness. Being his whore and whatever he wanted was everything you had ever wanted since the moment you had laid eyes on him.

He was so deep inside of you that you barely knew what to do with yourself. Flip's loud groans were bouncing around the walls of his room, blended in with your own gasps from every thrust into you.

Your walls were clenched so tightly around him, drawing him deeper and deeper inside.

"Fuck" You groaned. "Feels so- fucking good." You shakily breath out.

"This is what you wanted right? My cock so deep within you you’ll feel me for days" He cooed, slowing down just slightly, but each thrust was still as sharp, still as precise, and hard, and calculated.

A wailing yes! left your lips. You were sure you would be able to feel Flip's hands on your hips as you would nurse your hangover tomorrow, and most likely the day after that as well. You would feel him in every step you took. Forever.

"Harder." You pleaded.

He pulled out so just his tip was left in you, waiting there for just a second before slamming back into you again, buried to the hilt. The groan Flip let out sent tingles down your spine and caused you to clench even tighter around him, triggering another moan from him.

"I love it when you do that." He praised, followed by another rut into you.

He continued pumping into yours sweet cunt, drawing moans from you that were filthy. The sound of skin slapping and noises of pleasure mixed together as they bounced on the walls and around the room.

His thrusts had picked up in pace one again, ruthless and reckless as he fucked deeper and deeper into you. You were trembling against him, breath hitching, getting caught in your chest as you almost forgot how to breathe. You could feel your release mounting quickly once again, shockwaves gripping your body and rolling through you with every buck into you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come,"

"No, you're not." Flip withdrew from you completely, flipping down on the bed beside you. You were drunk on the feeling of him, needy and desperate, ready to take everything he would give to you.

His legs were spread, cock standing on full attention, bobbing against his stomach, it's tip coloured an angry red, ready to be inside of you again.

"Come on then." He pulled you out of the short-lived trance you had been in over the sight of him. You though again of how there was something so ethereal about him, something other than just his looks, something that would always draw you back in and keep you on his hook.

You were quick in your movements, throwing a leg around his hips and hoisting yourself upright, causing him to chuckle over your desperation.

"Eager, are we?" He welcomed you with open arms, hands coming up to rest on your hips once again, as he gazed up at you with a smile on his face.

He helped you pull your wrinkled dress over your head, placing open mouthed kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach. His lips attached themselves to your perked nipple, sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.

"You're so fucking gorgeous." He sounded as if he was in awe simply over the sight of you.

You sank down swiftly, engulfing him with your tight walls, stopping only when you were at the base, stuffed full of him.

"Oh, fuck, Flip!" The change in angle had you convinced that he was deeper in you than ever before, the tip of him nestling against your cervix.

"You feel so good like this." Flip moaned. He tapped two fingers against the side of your thigh, signalling you to move and you were more than happy to oblige. Your feet were securely rooted on the floor and you placed your hands on the walls to give yourself the leverage and support you needed to begin riding him.

He let you control every movement; let you set the pace as you slid up and down on his throbbing cock. Flip's hands were exploring every inch of you that they could reach, massaging your breasts, caressing your thighs, sliding across your back, and then, finally, they found their way to the apex of your thighs and started firmly circling your clit.

Flip let out a loud grunt every time you slammed yourself down onto him. It was a sound you wanted to hear every day, every waking moment and in every vivid dream.

The steady pace that you had managed to keep was slowly becoming nothing as you felt yourself loosing control over your limbs the closer you climbed to that high you were chasing. The muscles in your stomach were tightening rapidly over the coiling tension and your walls gripped him even tighter.

"Say my name."

"What?" You weren't lucid enough to possibly begin to understand what he meant at that moment.

"Say. My. Name." He repeated, making sure to punctuate every single word with a small thrust upward to meet you as you came down on him.

His name spilled out of your mouth just a few seconds later in the form of a moan.

"Who’s making you feel this good?" You weren't as quick to heed his words this time, the building pressure between your legs taking up all of your attention.

His hands were back on your hips, forcing you up, slipping out of you, and then guiding you dominantly into the position he wanted with your face pressed into the sheets and your ass high up in the ar. He was swift to enter you again, you had barely even had time to complain over the loss of him before he was drilling into you.

"Flip!" You shouted his name as you finally came, tumbling over the edge as stars were painted behind your eyelids. Your legs were shaking, spasming, through the waves, words of gibberish leaving your mouth as he made you babble like a brook. He hadn't even faltered in his movements, continuing to pump into you as he chased his own climax. He was panting loudly in between groans and the sound of skin slapping against each other.

"Who owns this pussy?"

"You." Another sharp thrust into you.

"Who owns this pussy?"

"You, Flip. Oh, god, you, Flip!" Small droplets of tears were leaking from the corner of your eyes as Flip was steadily driving you to cum again as he fucked into you.

You hadn't felt this way before, you didn't even know you could feel this way; the overwhelming stimulation that was rushing through your blood, lighting your nerves on fire, making you want to stay right here, right now, forever.

"That's fucking right." Flip came with a deep jerk into you, pulling out to come all over your back before entering you again to give you a few last thrilling pumps.

You laid there on his bed in a heap, totally out of it as he calmly came to rest beside you. He coaxed you onto your back so that he could plant a sweet kiss on your lips. Uttering words that made your erratic heart pump even faster.

“All mine.”

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Embrace Me

(1-1)

Short story # 26

Gif NOT mine.

Paring - Commander Mills X Plussize!Reader

Summary - Your simply trying to relax after a grueling day of hiking, across the tundra of an unknown planet. And Commander Mills is absolutely determined to relax with you, his copilot and long time crush.

Rating - SFW (It gets a bit spicy, but nothing occurs.)

Reading time (roughly) - 12 minutes

Year posted - 2025

"Can we please rest for the night? I feel like I've got blisters on my blisters." (Y/n) whined at her Commander, who was walking a short distance ahead of her. He sighed heavily through his nose, glancing back at his copilot over his shoulder. "We should find shelter first, it's going to storm tonight." He argued. (Y/n) groaned in response, her feet were killing her, and her gear grew heavier and heavier with each step. "Why did we have to crash on such a miserable planet." She complained, as she adjusted the strap of her plasma rifle higher onto her shoulder. Mills chuckled softly at her words, silently agreeing with her assessment of this uncharted planet. "I would offer to carry you." Mills said as he glanced back, smirking at how quick (Y/n) perked up. "But you're awfully heavy." He teased playfully, laughing when he felt her throw a handful of berries at his back. "That's not nice." She huffed at him, feeling a tad bit insecure, despite knowing he was only joking. Mills turned to observe her expression, and before he could see the look of insecurity on her face, (Y/n) pulled up a mask of playful bitterness. Even going as far as to childishly stick her tongue out at him. Again he simply chuckled and turned back to continue leading the way.

Almost an hour later they finally found a suitable place for shelter, and in the nick of time. As soon as they'd sat their packs down within the cave, it was as if the heavens had simply opened up, and a downpour of rain fell from the darkening sky. "Finally." (Y/n) sighed as she plopped down onto the ground, carefully pulling her boots off with a hiss of discomfort. While Mills on the other hand began setting up a perimeter defense, or rather a security system. The rhythmic hum of the security devices was soothing in a way, knowing that as long as they remind humming this calm tone, then they were completely safe. "Here." Mills offered (Y/n) his canteen of fresh water. "Thanks." She excepted it gratefully, taking a generous sip before pushing it back towards him. "I'm okay, drink up, you need it." He assured her, and though she knew it wasn't, it felt like another jab at her weight. "Okay." She muttered softly, her eyes unable to hide her sadness, as she looked down at the canteen in her hand. "Hey are you okay?" Mills asked, instantly picking up on her sudden shift in mood. (Y/n) willed herself to perk up a bit, a false smile stretching across her face smoothly. "Yeah just tired is all." She lied through her teeth, and while Mills looked like he wanted to say something, he simply nodded his head, and turned his attention to rummaging through his pack.

(Y/n) took a few more generous sips of the water, and as she sealed the lid, Mills held his hand out to her. "You should eat something." He said as he opened his palm to her, inside his hand lay a chocolate bar, her personal favorite chocolate at that. A nagging voice in the back of her mind taunted her, echoing that he chose chocolate specifically because of her weight. "I'm not really all that hungry, just wanna rest is all." She lied again, ignoring the hungry twist in her gut. "We've been walking all day, you need to keep up your energy." Mills insisted, placing the chocolate into her and, and closing her fingers around it. "Sure." She muttered softly, wishing the ground would just open up beneath her, and swallow her whole. Mills smiled at her, pleased that he had been able to snag a few of her favorite chocolate bars, before they left the tattered ships kitchen behind. (Y/n) had peeled back the wrapper, and was taking tentative bites of her chocolate. Her eyes following Mills as he refilled the canteen with rain water, and then retrieved a snack for himself. A preserved granola, high in protein, low in fat... And sugar. She felt the urge to throw up, but swallowed the knot of bile building in her throat. Unable to take it anymore she shoved the rest of the chocolate bar into her pack, and lay back against the hard dirt covered ground. Her eyes swirled with insecurities and sadness, as she stared at the roof of the cave.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Mills asked suddenly, observing her with concerned eyes. He'd never seen her act like this, and while it wasn't everyday they crash landed on an uncharted planet, he worried that there was something else bothering her. "I'm perfectly fine." (Y/n) insisted as she closed her eyes. "You know..." He started as he sat aside the rest of his food. "It's okay to be scared right now." (Y/n) took a deep breath through her nose, and crossed her ankles. "I'm pretty shaken up myself." He admitted in a soft reassuring voice, watching as she simply laced her fingers together on top of her soft belly. Mills swallowed thickly as he observed her, wandering if she felt as soft and cozy as she looked. "I'm just tired okay." She insisted with a bit of a bite at the end. "Okay." Was all Mills could bring himself to say, and for a moment his attention was drawn outside, as a crack of thunder rumbled menacingly in the darkness. When his eyes cast back to (Y/n) he noticed how she shivered slightly when a gust of wind blew through the cave. He smiled faintly at the sight of her, noticing how peaceful she appeared to be in this moment. Without thinking Mills crossed the distance to kneel at her feet. She didn't seem to notice his proximity, or she simply chose to ignore it all together. However when he gently grasped her ankles, and uncrossed her legs she reacted. "What are you doing?" Was all she said, her eyes still closed.

"You're cold." Mills stated as a matter of fact, before pushing her legs up until her knees bent. As he slotted himself between her legs, and pressed himself as close to her as he could, she opened her eyes. "That doesn't answer my question, what the hell are you doing?" She asked and though her tone sounded annoyed, her eyes betrayed her and bared her curiosity to him. "Keeping you warm." Mills stated casually as he hooked (Y/n)'s legs to rest comfortably around his waist. Afterwards he took ahold of her wrists, and pulled her arms up to lay beside her head, his hands engulfing her own, and keeping her locked in place. "A blanket would have sufficed." (Y/n) uttered as their noses brushed from their close proximity. "I was cold too, and we only have the one blanket. You know after you lost yours yesterday." He teased her with a grin on his face. "You're so annoying sometimes, you know that?" (Y/n) huffed as she tried wiggling free, only to freeze with a squeak, when she felt just how much of him was pressed against her. Mills hummed at the feeling and nuzzled his face into her neck, inhaling her natural musk after sweating most of the day. (Y/n) wanted to wiggle away, feeling insecure about how she smelled. "You're so soft." Mills muttered against her ear, his plush lips brushing against her skin. (Y/n) wasn't sure what to say, and despite herself, she felt herself relaxing beneath him.

"I've always wanted to be this close to you." He admitted in a soft whisper, his words making (Y/n)'s heart flutter. "Close? Mills you're more than just close. You're invading, suffocating, practically swallowing me." (Y/n) said as she made a mental note of how much his body was caging her entire body against the ground, how easily he covered her as if she was just a small thing. Mills pulled back a little, just enough to look at her face. "I can move." He said as he shifted to get off of her, however before he could move far, (Y/n) locked her legs around his hips, keeping him in place. "Don't you dare." She huffed at him in warning. With a smile he relaxed, and nuzzled his face into her neck again. "There is something you can do for me Commander." Mills shuttered at the use of his title. "Anything." He promised. "Let me feel all of you, crush me under your weight. Please." (Y/n) said in a breathless tone, finding herself desperate to feel him everywhere. Mills huffed against her neck finding desire flowing through his body, at the thought of truly laying on her. And without needing to be told twice he relaxed further, and little by little he dropped his full weight onto her. (Y/n)'s breathing became a bit shallow at the new weight on her ribs, but the moan that passed her lips was divine music to his ears. "Holy fuck that feels amazing." She breathed out, her fingers flexing and unflexing around his much larger ones.

"Keep making sounds like that, and we aren't going to get much rest." Mills murmured against her skin, moving so the bridge of his nose ran along the length of her jaw. "Fuck resting." (Y/n) huffed as she rocked her hips up, and moaning at the feeling of the curve of his cock nestled firmly against her. "You're going to be the death of me." Mills uttered as he pushed his groin against her, a groan bubbling in his throat when he felt just how much warmer she was there. (Y/n)'s breathing had become a bit more shallow, and sensing her body couldn't handle the extra weight, Mills pulled up just enough to ease the pressure off of her. (Y/n) grunted in annoyance however, and pushed her chest up to meet his. "Lay against me." She begged. "I don't want to hurt you." Mills argued before planting a feather light kiss against her forehead. "I don't care, I want you to crush me." She admitted before pushing forward to kiss him. Mills melted into the kiss, and slowly eased his weight onto her once more, greedily swallowing the moan that she gave to him. As the kiss deepened Mills began to slowly rock against (Y/n)'s clothed heat, offering them both some relief, and yet making them both crave more. "I want you to ride me." He admitted then they parted for air. "I thought I was too heavy." (Y/n) said, with a twinge of sadness in her voice. Understanding now the mistake he'd made earlier, Mills finally realized why she had been acting odd.

"Bullshit." He argued, and before she could say anything else. He hoisted them both up off of the ground, holding (Y/n) up by the fat of her thighs as if she weighed nothing at all. She had gasped in surprise and the sudden movement, and squeezed herself closer to him, afraid he would drop her. "You're so fucking perfect." Mills murmured as he rest his forehead against hers, allowing her body to lower just enough to keep his cock snug against her clothed sex. "Oh my god." (Y/n) panted almost breathlessly, as fear and desire coursed through her veins. Without thought she grinded down against him, her arms tightening around his shoulders, and her eyes squeezed shut. "So beautiful." Mills breathed out before kissing her once more, teeth and tongue clashing in a desperate symphony of love and desire. His large hands squeezed at her plush thighs, making him groan at how soft and squishy she felt. "I love you, fuck I love you." Mills declared against her lips, as he continued to grind against her. "Please let me show you how much I love you." He panted heavily, her moan going right to his core. "Please please please please." He rambled over and over, desperately wanting to make her feel good, and show her just how much he loves her. "Y-yes." (Y/n) nodded her head vigorously in agreement. "S-show me how m-much you love me Commander." She stammered over her words, her entire body buzzing with desire. "Thank you thank you thank you." Mills babbled as he began pulling at her clothes, desperate to see all of her body, and to finally get to worship every inch of her skin, and her very soul.

God I loved this movie... I mean sure it had some plot holes, but I could care less. The amount of grunting and heavy breathing we get to hear Adam make is divine... When I first watched this movie, I was wearing headphones, and oh my god he was killing me with those sounds. Anyhow I hope you enjoyed this one.

[brazilian-vampyra]

♡♱ 𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝖂𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓 (𝖕𝖙-𝖇𝖗) ｡ﾟ ୨୧

ೀ sinopse: pensou que o único lugar possível para se esconder do mal seria no convento, mas tudo muda quando o padre adam driver chega.

ೀ avisos: contém palavras de baixo calão, sexo explícito, sexo sem camisinha, creampie, perda de virgindade, masturbação, sexo oral, exibicionismo, dirty talk, size kink, orgasmo múltiplo, hipersensibilidade, praise kink, age gap, priest!adam x fem!nun! reader.

ೀ nota: esse capítulo aqui não tem o intuito de ofender ninguém ou ofender o catolicismo, caso não se sinta confortável, não leia.

𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐂̧𝐎𝐔 quando você completou 18 anos. Com a chegada da maioridade vieram as responsabilidades, e também vieram séries de pesadelos e sensações bizarras, como se alguém — ou algo — te perseguisse.

Sentia um arrepio constante na espinha, como se estivesse sendo observada por olhos invisíveis em cada esquina escura, ou em cada canto de seu quarto. A sensação de ser seguida por algo sinistro a perseguia implacavelmente, como uma sombra indesejada que se recusava a desaparecer e, a cada passo que dava, dia após dia que seguia, parecia apenas intensificar a sensação de que algo terrível a seguia, espreitando nas sombras.

Seus sentidos ficavam em alerta máximo, captando cada som sutil, cada movimento furtivo ao seu redor. O medo se transformou em uma constante companhia, enrolando-se em torno de ti como uma névoa gélida, impedindo-a de relaxar ou encontrar paz. Mesmo em momentos de aparente calma, a presença opressiva do desconhecido a assombrava, deixando-a à mercê de um terror crescente e incontrolável.

Ouvia sussurros chamando-a, sentia mãos quentes tocando seus ombros, ou algo deitado em seu lado no colchão.

Era tudo tão estranho e bizarro, que decidiu se juntar à um convento e se tornar freira. Quem sabe dentro da igreja não conseguisse a paz que tanto almejava? Quem sabe assim, aquela sombra não iria parar de se atrelar à sua?

Aquela tinha sido a sua melhor escolha.

Na penumbra da igreja, os fiéis se reuniam em prece, mergulhados na serenidade do local sagrado. Ajoelhou-se silenciosamente no banco de madeira polida, seus olhos erguidos para o altar iluminado pelas velas enquanto o som suave dos cânticos preenchia o espaço enquanto, mergulhava em suas reflexões.

De repente, um murmúrio percorreu a congregação quando o padre se aproximou do púlpito. Seus passos reverberaram pelo chão de pedra enquanto ele se aproximava, e ergueu o olhar para observá-lo. Seu coração deu um salto quando seus olhos encontraram os do novo padre. Alto e imponente, ele emanava uma aura de tranquilidade e dominância enquanto se dirigia à frente da igreja.

Possuía traços marcantes, com cabelos escuros e uma expressão serena que parecia irradiar sabedoria e compaixão. Seus olhos profundos refletiam a luz das velas, lançando sombras dançantes em seu rosto angular, junto à barba e o bigode que emolduravam. Sentiu um arrepio percorrer sua espinha ao encontrá-lo, uma sensação estranha e inexplicável que a fez desviar o olhar rapidamente.

— Queridos... — o padre Joseph disse, subindo ao altar. — Esse é o padre Adam, vindo diretamente do Vaticano. Ele assumirá meu cargo a partir da próxima semana.

O padre mais alto sorriu sem mostrar os dentes e levou uma mão ao peito, como se estivesse se sentindo lisonjeado por ter tal honra.

Enquanto os padres começavam sua homilia, você lutava para manter o foco nas palavras, mas sua mente inquieta voltava para o estranho magnetismo que emanava do padre Adam. Por mais belo e carismático que ele fosse, algo em seu olhar parecia esconder segredos sombrios, despertando uma sensação de inquietude que não conseguia ignorar.

[...]

Depois daquela semana, o padre Joseph foi embora. Tudo estava nas mãos do padre de longos cabelos escuros e alta estatura.

De repente, a sensação de pânico voltou — moderadamente —, aquela sensação de que havia algo a seguindo tinha voltado. Mas, faz dois anos que isso tinha sumido? Porque Deus decidiu te castigar novamente de tal maneira?

Deveria pagar algum pecado? Tinha atirado pedras à cruz de Cristo?

Não via outra opção a não ser se afundar em orações, e orar tudo o que sabia. As sensações se aquietavam quando você estava rezando, e perdeu as contas de quantas vezes seus joelhos ficaram doendo após ficar horas e horas sussurrando no altar. O crucifixo branco que ficava enrolado em sua mão já estava começando a ficar num tom mais encardido de tanto contato que tinha com suas digitais.

Agora mesmo, estava ajoelhada de frente à grande cruz de madeira, com o altar iluminado por mais de cem velas, enquanto você mantinha seus olhos fechados e rezava baixinho a oração "Glória a Deus nas alturas".

De repente, sentiu uma brisa fria percorrer a igreja quente e escura, batendo em seus ombros e quando olhou para o lado, lá estava o padre Adam. Como ele entrou sem fazer nenhum barulho? Parecia que seus pés eram leves como uma pluma, quase como se ele tivesse se materializado.

— Não quis interromper suas preces, filha.

— Não interrompeu, eu já tinha acabado, padre.

— Há algo te perturbando, querida... — o tom de voz dele era suave, quase furtivo.

— Como sabe?

— Posso ver no seu olhar.

Virou-se para ele, encarando aquele par de olhos castanhos. Havia algo muito estranho, apesar de serem brutalmente sensuais e cativantes, também eram densos. Tão profundos quanto mil abismos.

— Não sei o motivo... — ele levou uma mão até seu ombro, apertando levemente.

Seu corpo estremeceu levemente. Aquilo era muito similar à uma carícia, e não conseguia se lembrar da última vez que recebeu algum carinho de um homem.

Sentiu-se mal e se culpou instantaneamente. Estava gostando de ter o toque do padre Adam? Estava perecendo ao prazer da carne? Mas o que era aquilo? O que estava acontecendo com você naquela semana?

Não se conhecia.

— Mas... — ele prosseguiu. — Posso rezar por você, se me permitir.

— Agradeço imensamente.

O homem mais alto começou a rezar em latim. Apesar de você não falar esse idioma fluentemente, conhecia muitas palavras e foi capaz de identificar.

Ele estava rezando "Glória a Deus nas alturas", mas em seu idioma primário. Era a mesma oração que você estava fazendo antes. Ele estava ali há muito tempo? Escondido nas sombras escutando?

“Gloria in excelsis Deo et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis.

Laudamus te, benedicimus te, adoramus te, glorificamus te, gratias agimus tibi propter magnam gloriam tuam, Domine Deus, Rex caelestis, Deus Pater omnipotens.

Domine Fili unigenite Jesu Christe, Domine Deus, Agnus Dei, Filius Patris, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.

Qui tollis peccata mundi, suscipe deprecationem nostram.

Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris, miserere nobis.

Quoniam tu solus sanctus, tu solus Dominus, tu solus altissimus, Jesus Christe, cum sancto Spiritu, in gloria Dei Patris.

Amen.”

Um calafrio percorreu sua espinha ao escutar o "amém" dito dessa maneira mais forte, e você viu as chamas das velas no altar dançarem suavemente, por mais que todas as janelas e portas estivessem fechadas.

— Obrigada, padre.

Se levantou dos degraus. Já estava tarde, seu corpo clamava por descanso.

— Por nada — ele respondeu.

E, quando você ia sair, ele segurou sua mão e juntou às dele, fazendo-a praticamente desaparecer. Aquela mão pálida, grade, forte e cheia de veias aparentes estava sobre as suas. Elas eram quentes e macias, tão boas de serem sentidas que pareciam algo vindo de um paraíso artificial.

— E, não se esqueça de rezar antes de dormir.

Ele a olhou profundamente mais uma vez, fazendo você sentir sua garganta fechada. Responder era praticamente impossível agora, pois um nó havia se formado em suas cordas vocais. O que era aquilo, nervoso?

Assentiu com a cabeça e soltou as mãos dele, indo até o convento, para afundar a cabeça em seu travesseiro e desfrutar do sono dos justos. Dormiu com muito custo naquela noite, após ter rezado infinitas "Ave Maria".

[...]

O dia amanheceu sob um véu de sombras, onde nuvens pesadas pairavam no céu, obscurecendo a luz do sol e lançando o mundo numa penumbra sepulcral. O ar estava impregnado de uma sensação de inquietação, como se o próprio vento sussurrasse segredos sombrios que arrepiavam a sua espinha a todo instante, fazendo seus pelos se arrepiarem. No convento, o silêncio pairava como um véu de morte, envolvendo os corredores vazios em uma atmosfera de expectativa tensa, era como se algo estivesse prestes a acontecer.

Cada passo seu ecoava como um eco solene, reverberando nas paredes de pedra como um presságio fúnebre.

Os sinos da capela repicavam em uma cadência sombria, anunciando um dia que se desenrolava. Haviam corvos, que voavam em círculos sobre o telhado do local e suas vozes roucas cortavam o ar.

Cada sombra parecia se contorcer e se esticar, alimentando seu medo. Medo daquela sensação de que havia algo atrelado ao seu corpo... algo que não é desse mundo.

O dia se desenrolava como um capítulo perdido de um conto macabro, te deixando mais apreensiva a cada instante. Na parte da tarde, bem próximo às quatro horas, precisou ir ao monastério para pegar mais alguma velas que necessitavam ser repostas no altar da capela. Sob a luz pálida daquele dia extremamente não-expressivo, sua figura tímida deslizava pelos corredores sombrios da construção. Sentia seu corpo pesado enquanto seus sapatos tocavam no chão frio de pedra.

O ar estava impregnado com um silêncio pesado, sendo apenas interrompido pelos murmúrios dos corvos, que pairavam para lá e para cá, envolvendo-o numa atmosfera pavorosa. As sombras dançavam ao seu redor, contorcendo-se como espectros famintos que aguardavam nas dobras da escuridão.

A luz fraca das velas iluminava fracamente o espaço, lançando sombras distorcidas nas paredes antigas e nos móveis empoeirados.

Com passos cautelosos, você se aproximou de uma porta entreaberta, seus sentidos aguçados alertas para qualquer sinal de perigo iminente. Seu corpo tremia ligeiramente, uma mistura de medo e curiosidade a impulsionando adiante, mesmo quando a voz interior sussurrava advertências de perigo.

Se deparou com uma cena que ficaria em suas memórias para sempre. O cômodo era escuro, e várias velas estavam dispostas em cima da mobília velha. Mas, o que mais te impactou nessa cena foi o padre Adam — que estava sentado numa cadeira, no meio do cômodo escuro.

A cabeça estava jogada para trás, enquanto ele estava se tocando sem pudor algum. A mão grande e forte — que havia segurado a sua ontem — estava deslizando para cima e para baixo em seu membro, que estava melado pelo pré-gozo, escorrendo da glande rosada. A mão dele era bem grande, e mesmo assim, o pau ainda estava bem visível, com aquelas veias pulsantes e bem distribuídas por toda a extensão.

O seu corpo estava quase entrando em combustão, de tão quente que estava se sentindo agora. Seu coração estava martelando descompassado em seu peito enquanto você notava como o pomo de Adão dele subia e descia a cada momento em que ele respirava de um jeito mais ofegante. O moreno gemia de forma profana enquanto se satisfazia, e isso havia despertado algo em você.

Suas bochechas estavam coradas, e sua mão estava contra a própria boca, pois tinha medo de acabar deixando escapar algum som que não deveria. Havia um calor crescente no meio de suas pernas, um desejo estranho e uma inquietação em seu baixo ventre. O que era aquilo?

Por que ver um homem se rendendo ao prazer da carne estava te deixando assim? Você deveria se sentir envergonhada, deveria se sentir mal por isso, mas estava ficando excitada?

Seus olhos estavam vidrados naquela cena erótica, e você apertou ainda mais a mão contra sua boca quando o ouviu gemer mais alto e atingir o ápice, fazendo o conteúdo branco e viscoso escorrer pela extensão do próprio membro.

Saiu dali o mais rápido possível e desceu às escadas do monastério tentando controlar sua respiração, enquanto ainda sentia seu rosto queimar — só não queimava tanto quanto a inquietação no meio de suas pernas. Tentou tomar um bom copo de água para ver se acalmava seus nervos e controlar seus batimentos cardíacos, mas parecia que aquilo iria ficar na sua cabeça por um tempo; um bom tempo.

Como iria olhar para o padre agora? Como iria olhar para ele sem lembrar dos atos profanos que ele estava praticando num quarto escuro na construção?

Eram muitas perguntas e nenhuma resposta. O jeito era deixar que o próprio universo tomasse seu rumo.

[...]

A noite era tempestuosa, o som da chuva batendo impiedosamente contra as janelas era como uma sinfonia de caos e desassossego; raios cortavam o céu escuro, lançando breves lampejos de luz que iluminavam o seu quarto, revelando os contornos sombrios dos móveis e das sombras que dançavam nas paredes.

Olhava para o enorme espelho que havia perto da janela, pensando em como iria conseguir pegar no sono. Já havia rezado tudo o que sabia, e mesmo assim, a imagem do padre Adam dando prazer a si mesmo não saía da sua cabeça, assim como aquele fogo que ardia em seu íntimo ao vê-lo em tal situação.

O estrondo dos trovões ecoava pelo ar, como uma voz selvagem que rugia na escuridão, sacudindo os alicerces do convento com sua fúria incontrolável. O vento soprava forte, uivando como uma criatura faminta que clamava por entrada, enquanto as árvores fora curvavam-se em submissão ao seu poder avassalador.

Estava deitada em sua cama, os lençóis emaranhados ao redor de seu corpo como correntes que a mantinham prisioneira de seus próprios pensamentos impuros. Seu coração batia descompassado em seu peito, ecoando o ritmo frenético da tempestade lá fora, enquanto lutava em vão para encontrar paz em meio ao caos. Olhava para o teto de madeira, observando os padrões que eram desenhados no próprio material.

Cerrava os olhos com força, desejando desesperadamente que a tempestade passasse e trouxesse consigo a tranquilidade tão esperada. Sua mente atormentada por pensamentos impuros não iria te deixar em paz, nada iria.

Seu quarto era levemente iluminado pela luz branca e fraca de um poste que ficava ali em frente. Mas, essa luz parecia mais escura hoje.

De repente, ouviu batidas na porta.

Olhou para o relógio, que ficava em cima da mesinha de cabeceira. Faltavam cinco minutos para a meia-noite. Quem seria essa hora? Outra freira?

Levantou-se, usando sua camisola branca e fina e foi até a porta a passos relaxados, imaginando quem seria e o que queria. Ao abrir, se deparou com a última pessoa que esperava: padre Adam.

Ele estava em pé, e quase era do tamanho da porta. Estava sem suas roupas habituais, vestindo uma calça preta e uma camisa branca fina.

— P-Padre... — suspirou.

— Olá, querida. Problemas para dormir?

— S-Sim... estou tentando há algumas horas, mas meu corpo se recusa a descansar.

— Compartilho da mesma experiência.

Um silêncio mórbido pairou entre vocês dois, então você limpou a garganta brevemente e o olhou. Ele era tão grande comparado a você.

— Bom, hm... posso saber o por que de estar aqui...? Digo, essas horas...

Um sorriso praticamente sacana se instalou nos lábios sensuais do mais velho.

— Vim te perguntar se você gostou do que viu.

Seu corpo estremeceu no mesmo instante, e seu coração pareceu parar por alguns segundos, enquanto sua respiração ficava mais pesada. Arregalou os olhos e suas bochechas ficaram coradas de vergonha e desonra.

— E-E-Eu... eu n-não sei d-do que o senhor está f-falando...!

— Sabe sim, você é bem inteligente — levou uma mão até seu rosto, segurando seu maxilar e mantendo o contato visual. — Eu sei que você estava espiando. Que garotinha mais impura, não?

— D-Desculpa, não foi a intenção...

— Não me importo que você tenha olhado, só me entristece que não tenha se juntado.

— E-Eu não tenho como fazer o que o senhor fez... não tenho o que tem.

Uma risada rouca saiu dos lábios dele bem baixinho.

— Não mesmo... — a mão dele desceu por seu pescoço, e em seguida para seus seios, apertando levemente o esquerdo. — Deixa eu te contar um segredo... — ele se abaixou e se inclinou para frente, colando os lábios ao seu ouvido, enquanto a mão descia e adentrava sua camisola, chegando perigosamente em sua virilha, onde ele deslizou os dedos grossos por cima.

Seu corpo se estremeceu, e um gemido tímido saiu de seus lábios quando sentiu ele estimular levemente aquele ponto sensível, e pôde ouvi-lo sussurrar:

— Você tem algo muito melhor...

Os lábios dele desceram para seu pescoço, depositando beijos ardentes em sua pele, e te fazendo automaticamente abraçar os ombros largos dele. Estavam praticamente no corredor, entre a porta e o quarto.

— P-Padre... — tentou protestar. Mas aquilo saiu mais como uma súplica, do que um verdadeiro protesto.

— Adam.

Ele corrigiu, num tom ríspido.

— Mas que tipo de padre é você? — perguntou, sentindo o calor subir por suas pernas novamente, se concentrando em seu íntimo. — Que comete heresias...

Ele se afastou um pouco de você e te olhou nos olhos. Aquele olhar tão profundo e marcante, não era vazio e suas íris tomaram uma coloração vermelha, que brilhava como dois pontos na mais completa escuridão.

— V-Você não é um padre... você é... — ficou sem palavras.

— Sim, gracinha. Eu sou o seu demônio.

— Meu? — se perguntou internamente qual pecado teria cometido para merecer tal punição.

— Eu fui feito pra você. E, eu já tinha tentado me aproximar antes, mas você decidiu vir para o convento — ele reclamou. — Não posso te julgar, no fim, foi divertido.

— C-Como conseguiu entrar no convento? Como conseguiu se tornar padre? Pegar em cruzes, rezar...

— Eu tenho muita força de vontade, e deu um trabalhinho, sim. Mas, olha só como estamos... — ele se aproximou de seu rosto e deixou um selar demorado no canto de sua boca. — Valeu a pena.

A mão dele foi até dentro da sua calcinha, adentrando o tecido macio e permitindo que as digitais finalmente tocassem seu sexo nu. Um gemido de surpresa deixou seus lábios quando os dedos rudes do mais alto deslizaram um pouco mais embaixo, molhando-se com sua excitação.

Ele levou a mão até a própria boca, chupando os dedos vorazmente, com os olhos fechados. O moreno praticamente rosnou.

— Que delícia... — conseguiu dizer aquilo num tom que lhe deixava com as pernas bambas. — Preciso de mais.

— Ei, o que-.

Não teve tempo de protestar, ele segurou seu corpo como se você fosse tão leve quanto uma pluma, te agarrando, tirando seus pés do chão e entrando no quarto. Sua mente estava meio nublada, não conseguia pensar em nada agora que não fosse aquele homem; aquele demônio.

— Espera, e-eu nunca...

— Oh, eu sei... — ele levou o rosto até a curva de seu pescoço, passando o bigode por sua pele sensível. — Sinto o cheiro da sua pureza à quilômetros...

Os lábios dele foram até os seus. Eram quentes, macios e deliciosamente tentadores, só não era ainda melhor do que sentir a língua dele deslizando sobre a sua. Estava nos braços de Adam enquanto ele saboreava seus lábios e deslizava as mãos grandes por seu corpo, compartilhando seu calor com o dele. Nunca imaginou que fosse tão bom beijar um homem, mas estava sendo muito melhor do que nos seus sonhos.

Sentiu-se na cama, ficando de frente para ele enquanto o mesmo retirava a camisa e jogava em algum canto do cômodo. O peito pálido e com alguns pelos estava exposto, como seus braços fortes. Mas que belos músculos, aquele demônio tinha uma boa anatomia ou ele só tinha se ajustado à uma forma que sabia que iria lhe causar tesão?

Havia um crucifixo de prata ao redor do pescoço dele, com uma cruz detalhada e com alguns pedaços de uma jóia vermelha, supôs que fosse um belíssimo rubi.

Num movimento rápido, ele a puxou para o colo dele, fazendo você se sentar e sentir a ereção crescente que estava coberta pelo tecido escuro da calça. Seu rosto estava corado e sua respiração estava pesada, ele agora lhe dava selinhos lentos, que causavam estalos baixos.

— Seu coração está batendo tão rápido...

Aquele órgão pulsava em seu peito como as asas de um beija-flor.

Uma mão dele foi até seus ombros, abaixando as alças delicadas da camisola, fazendo-a cair levemente por seu peito, revelando seus seios que estava com os mamilos enrijecidos. Ele riu baixinho, um sorriso cafajeste que te deixou completamente excitada.

A outra mão foi até suas costas, obtendo um apoio para te inclinar levemente para trás, deixando seu peito mais visível enquanto ele praticamente salivava ao prestar atenção em sua pele, e perceber como você se arrepiava.

— Adam... — iria protestar sobre algo.

— Não se preocupe, eu sou forte o suficiente.

Assim, ele abaixou a cabeça, levando a boca até seus mamilos sensíveis, fazendo um gemido tímido escapar por seus lábios enquanto ele deslizava a língua descaradamente por sua pele macia. Aquela era uma sensação indescritível, pois nem mesmo em seus sonhos mais promíscuos foi capaz de imaginar que essa seria a sensação de ter a boca de um homem em seu corpo.

A mão livre do demônio foi até seu outro seio, praticamente o cobrindo por inteiro com aquela mão enorme, e apertando de um jeito que mais parecia massagear. Adam mantinha os olhos fechados, desfrutando daquele corpo perfeito que ele almejava há meses, e você estava gemendo baixinho, timidamente, se entregando pouco a pouco.

O moreno te deitou na cama em seguida, mantendo sua cabeça no travesseiro enquanto aproveitava para terminar de tirar a camisola que ainda te vestia, e ele aproveitou para puxar a calcinha junto. Agora você estava completamente exposta e sentia-se ainda mais envergonhada por ver como ele estava prestando atenção a cada mínimo detalhe em você. Desde quantos sinais de nascença estavam visíveis até suas bochechas coradas.

Cruzou as pernas por impulso.

— Não, não, minha querida... — ele disse num tom de voz suave. — Eu estava admirando esse paraíso que você tem entre as pernas, e você as fecha?

— Isso é um pouco vergonhoso...

O mais velho se deitou de bruços, distribuindo alguns beijinhos por sua coxa, fazendo você sentir aquela mesma sensação de quando o viu se tocando no monastério horas mais cedo. Aquele calor estava subindo por seu ventre novamente.

— Quando eu estiver fazendo você revirar os olhos, nem vai lembrar da vergonha... — os beijinhos foram subindo mais um pouco. — Agora abre essas pernas pra mim...

Ainda relutante, você abriu as pernas vagarosamente.

— Boa garota.

Ele segurou suas coxas na parte exterior, perto de sua bunda, e pôde posicionar melhor o rosto. Foi beijando a parte interior, praticamente queimando a pele sensível com aqueles beijos ardentes que pareciam te consumir como labaredas consomem a estrutura de uma construção durante um incêndio.

Os lábios dele chegaram perigosamente perto de sua virilha, antes de ele ir até a parte que tanto almejava: sua buceta.

Estava encharcada, tanto que sua excitação escorria. Ele sorriu maliciosamente ao notar e te abocanhou sem pudor algum. Um gemido de surpresa escapou por seus lábios, e você imediatamente cobriu sua boca com uma mão enquanto fechava os olhos.

Sentiu ele sorrir e grunhir contra sua buceta.

— Não precisa se conter tanto... as paredes do convento não são tão finas quanto parecem.

E voltou a te chupar novamente. Aquela era uma sensação tão celestial que nem parecia que algo profano estava sendo feito em cima daquela cama pois nunca, em todos esses anos, poderia imaginar que a sensação de ter a boca quente de um homem explorando seu sexo encharcado fosse tão perfeita assim, ainda mais quando o nariz dele estava sendo esfregado contra seu clitóris.

Pensou em como teria que rezar depois disso e pedir muito perdão por estar fazendo algo tão explícito e erótico. Finalmente havia se rendido aos prazeres da carne, ainda mais com um demônio. Mas, seus pensamentos rapidamente eram deixados em segundo plano quando sentia a boca quente dele indo até seu clitóris. Bem que ele disse que quando você estivesse revirando os olhos, não iria pensar em vergonha alguma.

— Porra... — a voz grave dele ecoou entre vocês. — Você é tão doce...

— Eu sou? — questionou timidamente, olhando para baixo e vendo como ele estava focado em continuar te chupando.

— Uhum... — ele murmurou, não perdendo o foco e jogando uma de suas pernas por cima do ombro largo enquanto apertava com uma mão.

Ele estava praticamente te fodendo com a língua, fazendo-a ver estrelas e praticamente alcançar sua utopia. Você levou uma mão até os cabelos escuros e macios dele, apertando sem nem se dar conta do que estava fazendo enquanto gemia.

O mais velho se concentrava agora em seu clitóris, fazendo movimentos em "oito" com a língua naquele ponto sensível. Aquilo te fez estremecer e praticamente lacrimejar de tanto prazer que estava sentindo. A sensação em seu baixo ventre voltou, mas dessa vez, muito mais forte que antes, como se houvesse um nó que estivesse prestes a se romper.

— A-Adam, por favor, eu... eu... — suplicou.

— Deixa vir que eu te seguro, querida — ele praticamente rosnou contra seu clitóris.

Não demorou muito para que tivesse seu primeiro orgasmo, o primeiro orgasmo de sua vida. Foi uma sensação tão intensa, que nem mesmo tinha palavras para descrever o quão incrível aquela experiência havia sido. Seu coração palpitava no peito, suas pernas tremiam e seus olhos estavam se revirando enquanto você apertava aqueles cabelos macios e escuros.

Ele lambeu sua intimidade mais um pouco, antes de se distanciar, com os lábios melados.

— Você tem um gosto melhor do que eu tinha imaginado... — ele admitiu, se sentando na cama.

A ereção já estava incomodando, aquelas calças estavam apertando mais que o normal. Mas, ele teria o alívio que almejava em breve, ainda não tinha terminado o que queria fazer antes de te penetrar.

O mais velho te fez sentar na cama, levemente inclinada para trás. Sentia seu corpo quente, o sangue fluía por suas veias rapidamente. Uma mão dele foi até sua intimidade, deslizando os dedos grossos por sua excitação gotejante, melando-os.

— Está sensível... — disse baixinho.

— Ah, querida... essa é a melhor parte.

Sentiu um dedo dele deslizar para seu interior apertado, provavelmente o dedo médio.

Arfou, olhando naqueles olhos profundos e cheios de desejo enquanto ele movia a mão devagar. Seu interior se contraia, devido a sensibilidade do orgasmo recente, mas mesmo assim era uma boa sensação.

— Vamos ver se você aguenta mais um...

E, assim, ele deslizou o dedo anelar, te fazendo gemer baixinho mais uma vez.

— Ótimo... ótimo... — te reconfortou.

Os dedos dele faziam esse movimento de vai e vem, curvados levemente para cima, te deixando cada segundo mais sensível. Era uma sensação estranha, ao mesmo tempo que era levemente dolorida, era extremamente bem-vinda e satisfatória. Fazia isso lentamente, mas não chegava a ser algo tortuoso.

— Está gostando disso? — ele questiona, baixinho, analisando seu rosto.

Você murmura algo de forma afirmativa, e ele segura seu queixo, fazendo-a olhar para seu rosto.

— Quero palavras, não murmúrios.

— Sim...

Ele começou a mover os dedos um pouco mais rápido, fazendo-a se contorcer levemente. Suas pernas ainda estavam um pouco trêmulas, e você fechou os olhos, inclinando levemente a cabeça para trás enquanto se entregava a mais uma sensação deliciosamente tentadora e excitante.

— Quando você estiver necessitada, e eu não estiver por perto... é isso que você vai fazer... — ele dizia aquilo num tom tão erótico, que parecia te levar para outra dimensão. — Você vai fazer isso com a sua mão, ouviu bem?

O moreno desceu a mão por seu queixo, até chegar em seu pescoço, onde ele não a enforcou, mas teve um certo apoio para poder olhar melhor para seu rosto. Suas bochechas ainda estavam coradas e seus lábios estavam entreabertos.

— Aprenda direitinho, hm? Na próxima vez você vai se tocar, e eu vou assistir...

Ele aumentou um pouco o ritmo dos dedos, movendo a mão mais rápido, fazendo com que a palma batesse contra seu clitóris e os dedos fizessem o som molhado reverberar entre vocês dois, te deixando ansiosa para sentir aquilo de novo.

— Eu tô... eu tô... — tentava falar, mas não conseguia.

A antecipação do ápice já fazia suas palavras tropeçarem umas nas outras.

— Mantenha os olhos abertos, querida — ele mantinha o ritmo dos estímulos. — Quero que olhe nos meus olhos enquanto goza nos meus dedos.

Aqueles olhos castanhos estavam fixos aos seus, e mesmo com a baixa iluminação que invadia o quarto, você conseguia prestar atenção em como aquelas íris escuras estavam ainda mais obscurecidas pelo desejo crescente que ardia por você. Não estava conseguindo se controlar, aquela sensação vinha com tudo mais uma vez, num desespero crescente que subia por seu ventre.

Ele continuava segurando seu pescoço, um pouco perto de sua nuca, mantendo seu rosto erguido e finalmente se deliciando com a visão de vê-la alcançar seu ápice. Seus quadris tremeram, um gemido sôfrego deixou sua garganta, e você sentiu como havia molhado os dedos dele, e como seu interior estava se contraindo.

O segundo ápice foi tão incrível quanto o primeiro.

— Muito bem, meu amor. Muito bem...

Ele retirou os dedos de seu interior e levou até a própria boca, chupando-os como havia feito mais cedo.

Estava ainda mais molhada, escorrendo ainda mais e molhando o lençol da cama. O demônio alto e forte se levantou, ficando de pé no chão de pedra e se livrando daquelas calças que estavam apertando a enorme ereção dele. Quando ele abaixou a calça, você não pôde deixar de se surpreender com o tamanho de seu membro.

Já havia o visto, mas agora que a mão dele não estava no mesmo, parecia ser maior. Só de lembrar daquela cena erótica no monastério, aquela sensação subia por seu ventre novamente. Ele estava pulsando, com a glande rosada molhada de pré-gozo, e ele pulsava.

— Eu sei que é grande... — ele se deitou sobre você, tomando seus lábios gentilmente, como se fosse uma forma de te acalmar. — Mas não se preocupe, vai caber.

Os lábios dele foram até os seus gentilmente, deslizando a língua pela sua, enquanto os lábios dele pareciam massagear os seus. Estalos baixos daquele beijo estavam ecoando entre vocês, e você estava tão perdida nessa sensação que mal se importava com o mundo ao redor.

As mãos grandes dele foram até seus braços, segurando seus pulsos com firmeza e deixando-os pressionados contra os lençóis. Sentiu ele te penetrar devagar, indo com calma e sutilmente, para que não acabasse te machucando.

Você gemeu contra os lábios dele, e ele separou o beijo, fazendo com que um filete de saliva acabasse pendendo entre vocês dois, que logo se desfez. Sentia centímetro por centímetro, e fazia uma pequena pressão no início, mas ele foi devagar e com calma até penetrar tudo.

— Puta merda... — ele gemeu.

— Caralho... — você gemeu baixinho.

O fato de estar se entregando assim, e agora falando um palavrão já havia deixado bem claro como aquele demônio havia conseguido corromper você.

— Viu? Eu te disse que ia caber... — ele a tranquilizou, começando a mover os quadris devagar. — Nossos corpos foram feitos um para o outro, querida.

Ele não estava mais com peito colado ao seu, mas estava movendo os quadris num ritmo lento e altamente erótico que te fazia perder o juízo, enquanto ele segurava seus pulsos com aquelas mãos grandes e olhava em seus olhos. Não sabia dizer se era só impressão, mas ele ficou ainda mais gostoso em cima de você, e imaginou como aquelas costas largas e aquele corpo alto cobriam o seu corpo pequeno perfeitamente.

Os gemidos e grunhidos profanos do demônio estavam adentrando em sua mente, e logo mais iriam se tornar seu som favorito, era melhor do que ouvir os pássaros cantando na aurora. O pau dele esticava seu interior deliciosamente, fazendo-a gemer sem pudor, olhando nos olhos escuros dele se sentindo indefesa e entregue.

Estava nas garras do demônio.

A cada trovão que iluminava o céu noturno, você podia prestar atenção nos músculos fortes do moreno, e sentir-se feliz por ter a chance de se deleitar com isso. Já Adam, estava mais do que feliz por tê-la embaixo dele, e ele sabia que deveria tomar cuidado com seu corpo, pois às vezes não tinha controle da própria força.

— Sabe por quantas e quantas noites eu ansiava em te tornar minha? — por Deus, aquele homem sabia como fazer seu mundo virar de cabeça para baixo. — Agora olha só...

— P-Por que não tira esse crucifixo? — questionou timidamente, prestando atenção em como o pingente se movia a cada movimento de vai e vem que Adam fazia.

— Ele é um amuleto de proteção. Me impede de usar 100% do meu poder.

— Por que não usa?

Uma risada lascívia escapou dos lábios dele ao ouvir seu questionamento.

— Porque eu posso acabar te machucando, e essa é a última coisa que eu quero.

— P-Podemos tentar sem o crucifixo? — não estava se reconhecendo agora, ainda mais fazendo uma sugestão tão promíscua.

Os olhos dele brilharam naquele tom carmesim novamente.

— Ah, querida... eu não poderia estar mais feliz em ser seu.

Ele saiu de dentro de você, se sentou na cama e retirou o crucifixo. Aquele sorriso malicioso estava no rosto dele, sentia que algo muito bom estava por vir e que não iria se arrepender de ter feito essa proposta.

— Fica de quatro.

Ordenou, e você ficou com um pouco de dificuldade, mas conseguiu. Ele xingou baixinho com a visão de sua bunda empinada, e segurou seus braços, levando seus pulsos até suas costas, mantendo-os juntos e enrolando o crucifixo neles.

— Isso vai ficar bem aqui... — ele prestou atenção na cruz brilhante. — E se você não aguentar, pode me avisar.

Imediatamente você sentiu uma sensação diferente, como diversos toques em seu corpo. Adam só tinha duas mãos, mas você sentia mãos segurando seus pulsos, segurando a parte de trás dos seus joelhos para manter seu equilíbrio e finalmente uma mão dele em seu quadril.

Ele segurou a ereção com a outra mão e levou até sua intimidade molhada e exposta, deslizando a glande levemente por sua entrada, te provocando desse jeito sujo.

— Meu Deus... — suspirou surpresa.

— Deus definitivamente não está aqui, querida — e ele empurrou tudo, te fazendo gemer alto e surpresa enquanto fechava os olhos.

A outra mão foi até seu quadril, te fazendo empinar os quadris para que ele pudesse mover os dele. A chuva ainda estava forte lá fora, e os trovões e os raios eram altos o bastante para poder mascarar os gemidos e os sons de seus quadris que ecoavam pelo quarto. Felizmente, a cama não fazia tanto barulho, e a cabeceira não estava batendo contra a parede de pedra, mas ele estava sendo bem intenso.

Não conseguia expressar a satisfação de estar sendo segurada por essas "mãos invisíveis", mas era uma sensação que beirava a definição de "celestial". Adam estava focado em te satisfazer, movendo os quadris num ritmo que era um pouco mais rápido, e a fazia gemer.

Nunca pensou que fosse se encontrar na cama, gemendo graças a um padre — na verdade, um demônio disfarçado de padre —, mas olha só a ironia do destino. Ele havia te corrompido da forma mais deliciosa possível, te fazendo enxergar que era bom poder se render ao prazer da carne quando estivesse com alguém que sabia o que estava fazendo.

E, céus... ele sabia foder.

— A-Adam, o que é isso? — perguntava, entre gemidos. Mal conseguia falar, as ondas de prazer eram de desnortear qualquer um que ousasse sentir.

— Isso não é nada, eu estou pegando leve com você... — ouviu ele rir, aquela risada cafajeste de mais cedo.

Os cabelos negros caíam pelo rosto de Adam, que estava olhando para baixo e apreciando a visão de sua bunda indo de encontro ao quadril dele, enquanto ele apertava sua carne com as duas mãos. O pomo de Adão subia e descia enquanto ele respirava pesadamente e gemia sem pudor algum. Ouvi-lo gemendo era tão bom.

Sentia aquela sensa��ão novamente em seu baixo ventre, como se aquele nó imaginário estivesse próximo a se romper e fosse te levar ao ápice novamente. Estava prestes a saborear a deliciosa sensação num terceiro orgasmo.

— Por favor, não pare... por favor... — sua voz estava manhosa, mal conseguia falar.

Tendo em vista isso, ele usou um pouco mais do poder, fazendo você sentir agora como se a boca dele estivesse em seu clitóris, mas ao mesmo tempo estivesse em seus seios. Eram muitos estímulos juntos, e no momento em que sentiu, um gemido de surpresa deixou seus lábios que estavam abertos em um perfeito "o".

Ele aproveitou para mover os quadris num ritmo mais bruto e rápido.

— Goza pra mim, meu amor. Você tá quase lá, quase lá... — o tom de voz rouco dele adentrava e corrompia sua mente. — Goza no meu pau.

— Eu t-tô... eu tô- aah! — o gemido que anunciou o ápice acabou cortando sua lamúria enquanto você sentia as ondas de prazer atingirem seu corpo violentamente, fazendo seus quadris tremerem e sentiu que estava molhando o pau dele com aquele líquido quente.

Seus sentidos estavam confusos, a sensação ainda estava fluindo por todo o seu corpo, como o sangue que fluía por suas veias ativamente. Gozou com força, fechando seus olhos e praticamente gritando, agradecendo mentalmente pela tempestade que assolava o mundo lá fora.

— Que delícia, querida. Puta que pariu- ugh! Eu vou gozar, eu vou gozar... — o moreno gemia num tom mais manhoso e delicioso de se ouvir, aquilo não sairia da sua memória nem tão cedo.

Ele penetrou profundamente mais algumas vezes enquanto gozava em seu interior, liberando jatos de porra quente em sua buceta e respirava ofegante. O pomo de Adão subia e descia, como havia sido no monastério. As mãos grandes apertavam sua pele e os músculos daquele abdômen forte se contraíram.

Vocês ficaram parados mais alguns instantes, tentando voltar à realidade depois dessa experiência intensa.

O moreno saiu de seu interior e depositou um beijo em uma de suas nádegas.

— Seja uma boa garota e mantenha tudo aí dentro, hm? — ele disse tranquilamente.

Uma mão foi até seus pulsos, pegando o crucifixo e aquela força invisível parou de te segurar, te permitindo deitar no colchão. Ele colocou o crucifixo novamente e se deitou ao seu lado, te puxando para o colo dele.

Seus corpos estavam quentes e suados, mas aquilo era muito melhor do que havia imaginado. Ele deixou um beijo no topo de sua cabeça, e você pode fazer aquele peito forte de travesseiro enquanto ele deslizava a ponta dos dedos por seu ombro nu, no que seria uma carícia singela.

Passou uma perna pelo quadril dele, se aninhando no braço grande e forte do mais velho.

— Eu sou seu... — ele pegou sua mão e levou até os lábios, depositando um beijo terno. — E você é minha.

— Você é meu demônio de estimação? — brincou, fazendo-o rir.

— Se é assim que você quer se referir à mim.

[...]

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐀 𝐃𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒: morceguinhos, eu sou tão apaixonada nesse plot maluco que eu tirei do cu, que eu juro que vou fazer um livro inteiro sobre isso no wattpad puta merda, o Adam é uma delícia e ele como PADRE fica a coisa mais pecaminosa do mundo juro puta que pariuuuu 🗣️

[jfksbrainmatter]

how’s mama? ;)

adam driver x reader

genre : fluff 🧸

summary : you are laying in bed, heavily pregnant and sleeping. your husband, adam driver, wakes you after he came home from work and accidentally reminds you of your pregnancy and impending due date. freaking you out.

author note : this based on a really cute tiktok i saw bc i couldn’t stop thinking about it 😓

content warning : pregnancy, talk of birth, anxiety, age gap (reader is like mid 20’s-early 30’s and adam is late 40’s) and reader cries (for like a sec bc hormones)

warm, kind hands stroking your arm wake you up. your eyes flutter open as you shift in bed, smiling as you notice adam kissing your forehead. “mmmmm..hi baby~” you mewl, shifting to turn toward him, leaning up to kiss him.

“hi sweetheart..” adam leans down and meets you halfway in the kiss, stroking back your hair. “how’s mama doin’ ..?” you furrow your brows and tilt your head, confused til you look down. your lips quiver as you remember the impending child in your belly. eyes filling with tears, you look back up at adam, seeing his small frown.

“what’s wrong lovey..?” he asks with concern. everything, you wanna say. but you don’t. you sniffle and blink back the tears, “m’having a baby…” you whimper. adam smiles in amusement at your shaky voice.

“yeah you are hun..” he strokes your cheek to calm you down. you shake your head and whine, cupping your bump as you remember all the weight and life inside you. your grogginess is gone. replaced with anxiety and…fear..?

you don’t know but what you do know is that you’re crying freely now. adam lies next to you and cradles your bump with you, kissing your cheek and holding your head to his chest.

“shhhh..babygirl calm down, you’re gonna be okay…you’re alright, just breathe..” adam coos, calming you down. he’s very good at calming you down most times but the tears won’t stop flowing. damn hormones. you pull back and whine, wiping your eyes and rubbing them tiredly.

“a-adam i- i can’t give birth i can’t…what if i go into labor without you here? what if- what if i go into labor early?? i- im scared adam.” you whimper, sniffling and hiding into him. suddenly you stop, breathing slowly as you feel your baby stir, getting more settled. adam kisses you softly to stop your rambling, wiping your tears away softly.

“you will be ready my love. i will be there and- and you are so prepared honeybun...you have the nursery ready, all the baby clothes and the books and toys~” he smiles and laughs softly, rubbing your bump. he slides further down the bed to wrap his arms around your waist, listening and feeling for kicks from the baby. “i’m ready. i feel like you are too, almost.” he smiles and kisses your bump as the baby kicks against his lips, his laughs rumbling through the room.

you crack a smile at his happy laugh, stroking a hand through his hair as the baby kicks against their daddy’s hand. “i think they missed you.” you wipe your tears and sigh, calming down into your husband’s embrace.

he smiles giddily and lays his head against the bump, closing his eyes in content happiness. he loves his tiny family. “do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl..?” he asks, excited about a baby either way.

“mmmm i don’t care..as long as they’re healthy.” you whisper in response, kissing adam’s hair. he sighs and sinks into you, exhaustion finally sinking into him from his long work day.

“what do you want for dinner tonight baby..?” he asks, having taken over the responsibility of dinner. he’s staring at your large bump as he speaks, almost like he’s talking to the little human in you.

“mmmm…i think they want your ‘world famous’ burgers~ and fries…and a chocolate milkshake from that one place-!!” you speak excitedly, the craving coming on quickly from the baby in your uterus (who needs to pay rent by now).

“then that’s what mama’s gonna get.” he smiles and stands, walking to the kitchen to make his delicious food for his very, very pregnant wife.

[mvsiccd]

🌾🧺

[muxshwriting]

empire now

Ben Solo x reader

summary: you’ve spent every day since the temple attack searching for Ben Solo. he disappeared that night, no body found, no trace. you just didn’t expect to find him as the leader of the oppressors || warnings: torture, capture, wounds, pregnancy, family issues, past trauma, poor boy is TRAUMATISED || word count: 1931 || masterlist

As the world came back into focus, all you could feel was pain. You didn’t know where you were or what you were doing here.

Except, this was the First Order. You were captured by them and now you had to face the consequences of that. The stormtroopers had clearly gotten to you first, judging by the cuts and bruises that ached every time you shifted slightly. You also noticed the restraints that held you upright in a chair. They scraped your skin as you tried to move around and get (slightly) comfortable.

The door whooshed open behind you and you turned your head to try and see who was behind you. A figure shrouded in black appeared in your vision and you realised this was Kylo Ren, the Kylo Ren who was known for torturing and then killing Resistance fighters. This was the end for you.

“Where’s Luke Skywalker?”

Now that was a question you weren’t expecting. Maybe ‘where’s the resistance base’ or ‘what will the resistance target next’ definitely not ‘where is Luke Skywalker.’ No one had seen that senile old man in decades.

You could still remember that night where the whole universe was changed, the final downfall of the Jedi. It was raining, dark and gloomy. You had woken to the sound of crumbling buildings and clashing lightsabers. Staggering out of your hut, blindly reaching for your own lightsaber, you watched the scene in front of you. A man shrouded in a dark cloak, either black or soaked with rain, as he drove his blue lightsaber through the chests of your fellow students. Some tried to fight but none succeeded. Luke went running towards him, yelling something about destiny but you could barely hear him over the rain.

In a panic, you dove back into your hut and threw everything your owned into a rucksack, tossed it over shoulder and ran for your life. Neither noticed you slipping away through the rain and you were even luckier for it. You hadn’t looked back since. You still carried that old and tattered rucksack you had that night. In the bottom, you had sewn a secret pocket where your lightsaber sat. It hadn’t been lit since that day and you never wanted to but you didn’t have the heart to throw it away or destroy it. It weighed you down, reminding you of who you were as you fought and ran from the First Order.

Luke Skywalker. Your old master. He hadn’t crossed your mind lately and you were annoyed to be reminded of him.

“I don’t know anything about Luke Skywalker.”

If a mask could have expressions, it would be looking at you with a smirk.

“The Resistance is looking for a map to Luke Skywalker. You were meeting with San Tekka, he gave you the map.”

You frown. “I wasn’t meeting with San Tekka, you have the wrong person. I was on Jakku searching for an old friend.” You didn’t elaborate beyond that, you didn’t want to. Everyone always said you were chasing ghosts. But Ben’s body hadn’t been buried after that night. You had snuck back and watched as the devastation was cleared up and fixed like it had never happened. There was a chance, no matter how small, that he had snuck away like you had, that he was still alive and out there somewhere.

“What do you know about Luke Skywalker?”

“He’s an old man.”

The mask scoffed. You hated that mask, who would be so afraid to show their own face, resorting to hiding themselves like a coward. Ren raised a hand to your head and you felt the familiar push in your mind.

You screwed your eyes shut, focused on keeping him away from your memories. He was obviously stronger than you, pushing past your boundaries and diving into your thoughts. The stabbing pain that accompanied mind reading always took you by surprise. A groan fell from your lips as you held yourself back from screaming. Your whole body tenses, aggravating your other injuries, sending a stinging pain down your whole body.

The pain stopped and your body sags, only held up by the restraints.

“…Y/N.” Ren’s voice is a whisper and for a moment it’s not Ren’s voice, it’s Ben’s. Your eyes stay shut, basking in the sound of a voice you had almost forgotten. Your name is uttered again and it brings you back down to reality. It’s Kylo Ren standing in front of you, not Ben Solo. It’s Kylo Ren.

It’s Kylo Ren without his mask. It’s Ben Solo. It’s Kylo Ren wearing the same face as Ben Solo. It’s Ben Solo wearing Kylo Ren’s clothes.

Kylo Ren is Ben Solo.

“No.”

He frowns, looking more like the young boy you knew and less like a Sith every second. “No?” It’s an honest question, he’s confused as to why you’re getting upset. What the hell gives him the right to be confused after all he’s done?

“No! You’re making me see things, get out of my head.”

“Y/N…”

“Stop saying my name.”

“Please, it’s me. I didn’t recognise you at first, but I knew your beautiful mind as soon as I entered it.”

“Get out of my head.” You say louder. “Get away from me.”

If this was an interrogation tactic, this was cruel. If this was real, it was even crueler.

“I don’t know anything about Luke Skywalker, I don’t know what you want, I don’t have anything that I can tell you.” The tears that had gathered at the corners of your eyes now fell. Your breathing was laboured, simply trying to force the air in and out.

“I’m Ben.” It’s not what he says, but what he does. He waves his hand, releasing your arms from your restraints and lifts your hand in his. He lets you touch his face, running your fingers over the flawless skin that you’d only dreamed of for years.

“What happened to you?”

You suppose your question catches him off guard, but there’s no malice or hatred behind your words. He takes a step back regardless, diverting his eyes to the ground. “I did what I thought was right.”

You go to interrupt but he continues.

“I was a fool. You were right all along, I should have listened but Snoke was so convincing. I thought the whole galaxy would be enough, but I never needed the galaxy. I just needed you.”

He helps you out of the chair, supporting your shaky legs and holding you tight. You meet his eyes, soft and warm like they always had been. Your Ben was here, you knew that. He would never hurt you.

“What do we do?”

“You need to go to the medics.”

“But Snoke-“

“Snoke is three systems away from here. He won’t know.” He says it with such conviction that you have no choice but to believe him.

“But-“

“We’ll get you looked after, then I’ll charter a ship to wherever we want. We’ll leave it all behind, the First Order, the Resistance, the Sith and the Jedi.”

“Okay.” You pause. “What about Leia?”

He freezes in place but he doesn’t say anything. A medical droid floats into the room, presumably Ben called for one. He’s not meeting your eyes and refusing to answer your question. You both sit in silence as the droid sprays your minor wound with bacta and sews the skin back together on the major cuts. You know you’ll be sore for a week or so but it’ll be fine in the end.

You and Ben steal away from the First Order in the dead of night, avoiding everyone else on the ship and simply revelling in your reunion. It works. All is good. You watch from a peaceful planet as the galaxy scrambles to destroy the failing first order. After their leader suddenly disappeared, the power vacuum swallowed many of the most competent generals and leaders, leaving the worst to take charge. It crumbled and the Resistance flourished.

A new government was set up, mirroring the style of the original Galactic Senate, intent on true law and order. Each planet could rule itself as long as it followed the major guidelines.

Normalcy was returned and you and Ben had settled into a comfy life where you didn’t need to worry. But then came the question of returning to his parents. It was a touchy topic for him but you kept asking. His mother loved him, you knew that and he knew that too. But he wasn’t pushed over the edge until he realised you were growing life inside you.

At the discovery of your pregnancy, Ben had been overwhelmed with love for a child he hadn’t even met yet. And he knew that he had to try and reconnect with his parents. He had to try for you and your child.

So now he stood on Chandrila, his brith planet and the planet his mother had once again retired to. His mother and father had reunited after the chaos and decided to try things again, putting their past arguments aside. You were a few steps behind him, always there but not wanting to pressure him. The front door of his mother’s house loomed in front of him and he had to take a deep breath before knocking. A shuffling could be heard inside before the door opened and an older Leia Organa stood there.

She stared at him, not believing that her son was truly there. Han rounded a corner behind her, wondering why his wife was taking so long to answer the door.

“Ben?”

He smiled, a little watery as tears welled. “Hey Mom, hey Dad.”

Leia practically tackled her son into a hug, holding him so tight, afraid he would disappear again. She met your gaze, eyes widening slightly as she recognised you from your childhood. Silently she mouth a thank you. You simply smiled at her.

“We thought you were dead…” Han said stunned. “When the First Order fell, we thought you had been killed.”

“I left.” Ben revealed. “I suddenly realised that everything I had done was for nothing.” He glanced back at you. “Y/N brought me back and I realised that no galaxy would ever compare to her.”

Han remained stunned. “Y/N? From all those years back at the Temple with Luke?”

“The very same.” You say quietly.

Leia embraced you next, smiling knowingly as she pressed a soft hand to your stomach. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

Once settled inside, Ben began your tale. Han had plenty of questions for you both, wondering where you had been and why our hadn’t returned sooner.

“We were building a home Dad.” Ben was dodging the real question. “… I was scared. I thought you might hate me or worse.”

“You’re our son Ben, nothing would make us hate you.”

“I know.” He replied. “I understand that feeling now. That’s why we’re here, because I realised how you would always care. Because I’ll always care for-“ He had to stop talking before he became a puddle of emotions. You grasp his hand tightly.

“What Ben’s trying to say is, we’re starting our own family and Ben knows he’ll always love our child, no matter what. He was too afraid before, but he understands better now.”

The Solo family shared soft smiles, slowly catching up on the years that had been missed. You sat back and watched Ben relax more and more, falling back into the easy conversation and jokes that he’d been missing out on. All was good. Ben was good.

Honestly, the longest fic I’ve ever written for tumblr (almost 2k words) and I wrote this in two hours in a caffeine induced dissociation, hope you enjoyed!

Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

[hauntingoldhouses]

I know your wife, and she wouldn't mind🍾

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

Chris Evans & Sebastian Stan

delivered

summary: Y/N has been secretly dating both Sebastian and Chris, successfully keeping each relationship under wraps—until now. One day, both men decide to surprise her at the café where she works, showing up at the same time. As they realize what’s going on, awkward tension fills the air, forcing Y/N to confront the truth. With emotions running high, she must navigate the fallout and decide whether her web of secrets will unravel everything.

Adam Driver

adam designated driver

Logan Howlett

ravish

ravish part 2

ravish part 3

changes

taste of home

my little voyeur

first christmas at the cabin

[heartshapedbabydolls]

And when her old man comes to call

He finds her waiting like a lonesome queen

[calummss]

PREY | FLIP ZIMMERMAN

masterlist

summary: never trust a charming man. his charm might turn into your worst nightmare when the man seems too good to be true

pairing: fem! reader x flip zimmerman

words: 2.1k

a/n: this is the weirdest idea i’ve ever had, do not ask how i came up with it…i wrote this for english lit so if there a name or description to the my oc i changed to ‘y/n’ please ignore since i didnt proof read!!

TW! kidnapping, implied cannibalism

"I can hear you, sweetheart," taunting words fell between the rapid rustling and crunching of the autumn leaves, creaking branches, and the smell of wet weeds and newly bloomed wild flowers.

A thin layer of sweat covered the nape of your neck; your hairs stuck to the side of your face as you twisted and turned to see what direction was the way out of the forest maze—quickly and safely. Every second you pondered, you wasted time. Every wrong turn you took, you wasted energy. Every second, you were hopelessly running away from safety.

You felt a surge of adrenaline as the cold air bit into your lungs. You forced your legs to push harder off the muddy ground and slippery roots, anticipating the relief of finding someone who could help. A sudden ringing noise penetrated your ear; a waft of air shot past you. Your heart sank into what seemed like a bottomless pit in your stomach when you saw a shotgun shell embedded in tree bark. A meaningless piece of brass and plastic, the colour of gasoline fuel, but its shape solid; red like blood.

Your screaming burst through your lungs; it was the only weapon you had. Your breath was sharp and frantic, your eyes wide filled with tears. Fear washed over you as you thought of the possibility of your life being cut short just because you had trusted a man who turned out to be the kind of charming until he got what he needed.

"You broke my trust, Y/n." His voice sang through the thick air. "You know, my favourite game as a boy used to be hide-and-seek. Always played with my brother, friends, family,” A short but taunting silence made your heart race. "They always complained because I played unfairly and cheated," he said, to the sound of his gun clocking. "I disagree."

The soft ground blurred below you. You continued running for what seemed like longer than it should have, figuring it was because of the psychopath on your tail. The only things that could hinder you from survival were your physical limits and your doubt. But your exhaustion also came running after you, and your cramping legs gave in, falling into the pile of wet leaves. Your body shook as you pressed your back against the tree trunk, trying to regain some sort of power to keep on running, but it was no use.

His frame edged closer and closer, his black shoulder-length hair blowing in the low wind. His dark gaze fixed on you as his twisted smile sent shivers down your spine.

Your mind went frantic with the thought, ‘weak.’

He looked at you, jaw clenched, inches away from you. Nostrils picked up the scent of his cologne as your lips started to tremble, knowing you had failed to outrun him. What would he do now that you had tried to run away? You didn’t know.

"You look beautiful when you're scared," he crouches down, cocking his head. "But the fun is over now and I get really angry when people try to outsmart me. Will you try to outsmart me again?"

"Please!" Your voice cracks. "Please, you don’t have to do this!" You cry out, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

"But I do," his voice now soft like it had been before he opened up the door to his cabin. "I have to do this."

Your crying intensified; your chest grew tight as bile rose in your throat. Blood pounded in your ears. Your hands shook. Your feet tingled. Your vision was disfigured, as if you were looking through a fish tank. There was nothing else you could do but give up. His strong arms scooped you off the ground and started carrying you away.

Your heart pounded even harder when you could see a street poking from behind the branches, realising you had given up before the finish line. Darkness was torn from your face, and a matrix of lights blinded you. Groaning, you shifted, attempting to jerk away from the brightness beyond your lids. Your hand hits your face, the drowsiness making you feel like a marionette. But even though your limbs feel heavy, like they had piled on imaginary weight, you tried to pull herself together. Pushing your torso off the ground, you noticed you were back in the living room you had been in moments before you took off running. Your eyes scanned for restraints—none.

But there he was. Tall, broad, muscular, wearing...black? A black blazer buttoned over something white, dark trousers, black shoes, all melting together into one until you blink a few times.

He must have noticed your surprise.

"Don’t worry," he took a swig of beer. "This manor is human proof. Both escaping," he huffed out, placing his hands on his thighs before talking towards the kitchen counter, "I mean like escape proof, soundproof, everything proof." He laughed.

"Why are you doing this?"

You spoke, your heart pounding and your voice cracking. "What the fuck is happening?"

He cackled, like he had one too many drinks, and laughed at a terribly awful joke. "Something very unfortunate for you."

"Let me go. Please. I swear I—I won’t tell anyone."

Silence.

“What happened, Flip?" Your gaze dropped to his frame, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. His hands engulfed the beer bottle he held. "What did I do wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong, Y/n." Monotone. Dry.

"Then please tell me why you are doing this to me." You couldn’t stop your chin from trembling or your heart from wanting to explode out of your chest. "You treated me so well. We slept together. And now. What is this?"

Flip scrambled out of his seat.

Your eyes darted across the room—the drawing room at the cabin, nothing but miles of land and sheep. It stood close to the sea, just off the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, which at this time of year had the strongest and toughest currents.

Flip placed the beer on one of the coffee tables and braced his weight on the gold-encrusted sofa that stood perfectly opposite you.

"I mean don’t get me wrong, dear, the sex was incredible and probably some of the best I ever had but it was part of my scheme."

"What scheme? To lure me to the woods?” You wanted to shout, but every bit of effort you made to speak or move was tripled against the weight of you building fear.

"Look, it’s nothing personal, Y/n," he said, lifting the corner of his lips. "You took my bait and now it's on you. It’s not my fault when you’re so gullible when it comes to love. I mean seriously, falling in love within three dates?"

"Is Flip even your real name?"

"Yes. My full name is Philip Zummerman."

"You give your victims your government name?"

"Well, it’s not like any of them will ever tell the police," he chuckled, his white teeth shining between his black moustache and beard. "You asked me before why I am doing this. I have an answer to that but I don’t think you’ll enjoy it as much."

"What is the answer?"

"I am handsome, well proportioned and insanely wealthy. Those two components work rather marvellously together. I either charm my way out of any trouble or I’ll just pay off what I need to. Humans are leeches by nature, you know," he took another sip of his beer. "Humans crave luxuries and comfort, and what else?"

"I don’t know."

“Yes, you do. C’mon!" He slouched down with the biggest grin he had yet given.

“Ehm,” pause, “Money?"

“Ding Ding Ding…money. How much money do you think it will take to buy an ordinary man’s silence? Say less than a thousand dollars? Maybe even two if he’s desperate enough."

You had no idea how to behave. You felt like you were compelled to listen to him.

Flip stood back up again, beer in his hand, his back facing her as he paced around on the dark ebony floors, the squeaking penetrating your ears.

“And how much do you think you will need to persuade that same man, so dull and simple, to take a life?" His feet stopped moving.

A deafening silence.

What?

"Those dirty old men rummaging around the dirty cities of Colorado would do it for 5.000? Maybe 10. But in their eyes, you are worthless. Not worthy of anything except the price tag above your head that has compelled them to blindly follow any orders given to them. Just like dogs. I think there’s a psychology behind it but then again I am no psychologist,"

“What are you going to do with me?" You asked once more, collecting every ounce of calmness you had left, forcing yourself to make contact with him.

He sighed in response. Like he was... bored, annoyed, rushed? Perhaps all three?

"I’m going to kill and eat you."

His gaze went through you like a blast of ice, his sick smile making your stomach churn. Your muscles stiffened, paralyzed by fear. You could hear the slow, dragging beat of your heart. Fear became a tangible living force that crept over you like some hungry beast, immobilising you and your brain, holding you captive. Every muscle in your body screamed at you to try and escape again, but you remained frozen.

"What…" Bile started to rise again.

"I will kill you, and I will eat you." The clicking of his tongue enunciating his pointed finger on you. "A simple concept really."

Panic started to settle in again. Fear creeping from behind, the hair on the nape of your neck stood up.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no." Nothing but high-pitched whimpers. Shallow breaths made it impossible to think clearly.

Your mind was scattered. How to escape? What had happened? Was your hand numb? Why did it feel like little pinpricks?

"This isn’t happening."

"It’s happening." His dark, monotone voice penetrated past your thoughts.

"It’s not happening. It’s not happening. This is all a bad dream."

You never had a heart attack but if someone had told you this is what it felt like, you wouldn’t doubt them. Your breathing was laboured, and your palms felt wet. You couldn’t think of anything but that your chest might get crushed any minute. "Oh, Lord," you started, "save me just this once."

You were trying to breathe, but you couldn’t. Someone was clutching your throat, stopping you from taking full breaths. But there was no one stopping you. Tears started trickling down your cheeks as panic crept over you again. This time, panic was unavoidable. It felt like forever. You sat there and panicked. He kept trying to say something, but nothing but mumbles made it past your ear. What he tried to tell you was inaudible.

‘Y/N!’

So suddenly his shouting erupted, bringing your mind back to reality as you stared blankly at him. You could feel a tear sitting at your lower lash line.

“There you are," Flip’s voice was half way between a whisper and a shout, deep and rumbling like the earthquake below you but still full of the danger you felt whenever you noticed his eyes on you. "Y/n."

“You’re a cannibal?" You choked back the fear and guilt you felt in your heart, speaking to yourself .

“Don’t insult your own intelligence," he tuts. "I do have a tendency to strongly dislike people who belittle themselves for the sole reason of incompetence or lack of confidence."

“And you just eat people?"

"I have refined tastes," he answers, his expression emotionless, but you could see the coiled tension in his body, the rage ready to spill forth. "You have complimented me on my cooking just earlier this evening. I remember the way your eyes fluttered, enjoying the thigh fillet. I would say your tastes are the same as mine. Why don’t we get you relaxed, dear? Hm? I have a room just for you and we’ll talk about this once you are back to normal."

"Normal. Normal."

You could feel his arms underneath you as he brought you to his chest. Feet dangling in the air as he made his way towards a wooden door that led down a spiral staircase, a red carpet greeting you as he walked past another long hallway until he came to a halt in front of the second-to-last door.

"You know, my dear, normally in these types of situations there would be some revulsion at the revelation that you’ve consumed a person. I see nothing of that in your demeanour. You don’t seem to care about the fact that others have suffered to land on my plate, yet you only seem to panic after you found out that you would meet their same fate... Tell me why? Do you think you are more important?"