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yoon-kooks · 2 years

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pastries & promises | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: After hooking up with the hot nerdy boy in your coding class over the weekend, you’ll use any excuse to keep his hands on your body all week long.

⛓️word count: 3k

⛓️warnings: catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, praise kink, dirty talk, oc is a horny lil brat, mention of getting wasted at parties, one instance of slut-shaming, oc makes an ignorant comment about earl grey tea lol, no explicit smut in this drabble

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: this takes place a few days after p&p jjk & oc start talking to give us a glimpse of what their new dynamic is like in & out of class✨ btw despite what oc says about earl grey, i personally love it;;

After a weekend of sex, coding, kitten shenanigans, and more sex, you wake up to a beautiful boy with equally beautiful tattoos nagging you to “get the fuck up” for the “hundredth time” because “class starts in twenty minutes” and “attendance is worth 25% of your grade.” It somehow slipped your mind that it’s already Monday. Can he really blame you after fucking you silly several hours ago?

You tug at the collar of his hoodie and pull him on top of you. Still very much naked beneath the sheets, you suggest, “Or we can just skip class and extend our weekend? I’m sure we can find something fun to do.”

“Nice try, but no.” Jungkook offers you a hand and pulls you into an upright sitting position. The sheets slide down your chest, and you catch the boy staring a little too long.

“And you expect me to walk into class without a bra?” It’s not your fault you rushed over to his place last night in nothing but a baby tee and leggings. Why bother throwing on a bra when you know it’s gonna be torn off your body the second you step into his room?

“I mean, I’m not against it.” His eyes are still locked onto your chest. At least he’s a guy who appreciates art when he sees it. When he’s finally done, he digs through his closet and throws one of his grey hoodies into your arms. “But this will keep you warmer.”

You sniff the hoodie. It’s clean but still has the very scent you’ve familiarized yourself with a lot this weekend—blossoms and bergamot. It smells delicious.

With a sigh, you hop out of the bed and collect your pieces of clothing from every corner of the room. Your thong somehow wound up slung over his computer screen, but better there than on the floor.

Once you’re dressed in your day-old clothes, you slip into the boy’s hoodie and drown in his scent. The warmth that engulfs you makes you want to adopt his comfy casual style. At least on school days. Maybe you wouldn’t dread going to class so much if you could just sit there and be all cozy like that.

You’d still prefer to stay home and fuck him, though.

“You know what, I’m not feeling very well all of a sudden,” you lie. “Maybe you should stay home too so we don’t spread any germs to our beloved classmates.”

“Maybe you should just go to class like a good girl, and maybe you’ll be rewarded afterward,” he throws back at you. The way you perk up is almost embarrassing. But you’ve definitely got a thing for being praised and rewarded for good behavior. Especially if the prize is something pleasurable. So yeah, you suppose you’ll endure class for a few hours so that you can have some more fun later on.

“Fine.” You wrap your pinky around his to solidify the deal. He gives you a look but doesn’t pull his finger away. “But just know that you’re a nerd for never skipping class.”

“And how do you know I never skip class?” He raises his brow with intrigue.

“We’ve been in at least three or four other comp sci classes together, and I’ve never seen you miss a day.”

“Oh, so you’ve been keeping tabs on me all this time?” He’s totally calling you out. But he isn’t wrong. As quiet as Jungkook is in class, it’s hard not to notice someone who’s so incredibly smart. Doesn’t hurt that you’ve always thought he was kinda cute too.

“I guess you could say that,” you admit. What you won’t admit, however, is the fact that you’d wanted to talk to him back then but didn’t know how to initiate a conversation. You might be considered popular, but you sure as hell don’t know how to talk to people unless they strike up the conversation first. And Jeon Jungkook clearly didn’t have any intentions of being the initiator.

Thank god for that partner project that started it all.

Just before the two of you can get out the door, a tiny mew stops you in your tracks. The kitten looks up at Jungkook and cries again.

“You have to stay home, little one,” he says, holding a hand up for her to sit and stay. Like the naughty demon child she is, she ignores everything he says and climbs up his leg and into his arms. You can hear her purring as soon as she rests her chin on her dad’s shoulder like an actual baby. It’s so tempting to take a million pictures of the glorious cat dad moment and set one as your phone wallpaper, but you’d definitely run out of storage. Good to know you have some form of restraint when it comes to your infatuation.

After ten heartwarming seconds, he sets the kitten down in her pink bed and gives her a new tiger toy that was special ordered from some fancy cat shop on the other side of the country.

“Stay,” he tells her again before rising out of his squat. When she does as she’s told, he adds, “Good kitten.”

Oh, how you wish he was saying that to you right now.

“Your daddy really spoils you, you know that?” you giggle, waving bye to the kitty. A second later, you’re overcome by the urge to latch around Jungkook’s arm as you both head to his car. “When are you going to spoil me like that?”

He doesn’t give you a specific answer, but you’ll gladly accept the way he shrugs with the faintest hint of a smile. The two of you haven’t been talking all that long, and yet, he seems to be tolerating your antics well. At the very least, he must like you a tiny bit.

On the car ride over, you feel like you’re forgetting something. And then the boy’s stomach rumbles. Neither of you has eaten anything since the impromptu fast food run last night.

“Ooh, we should stop by the cute little bakery near campus before class,” you suggest, totally not trying to avoid class for the thousandth time today. “I heard they have really good muffins.”

“We’re gonna be late if we make any detours.” He catches a glimpse of your pout as he makes a right turn. “We can go after.”

Your pout quickly becomes a smile because he keeps sweetening the deal. You’re very much looking forward to the promised pastries and sex after class along with anything else he might throw in.

When you get to class, the usual gal crowd is hanging around your desk. Except someone else is there sitting in your seat. It’s Big Tim. Great. You love confrontation first thing in the morning.

Before approaching the seat thief, you watch him throw a cocky ass smile at Jungkook who straight up ignores it as he takes his seat next door. You would’ve appreciated a little help, but there’s nothing from Big Tim you can’t handle. Besides, the two of you agreed to keep the whole hookup thing lowkey and out of the mouths of your gossiping classmates. Otherwise Jungkook would probably end up hearing a wacky rumor-fied version of it from his tattoo artist.

“Hi?” you say to the guy in your seat. You’ll play nice for now.

“Oh hi Y/N, we were just talking about you.” Big Tim gives you a much kinder smile than the one he threw at Jungkook—a byproduct of being popular, you suppose.

“About what?” You’re genuinely confused.

“There’s a party at my place this weekend, and I’m hoping you’ll be there.” This is the first time he’s personally invited you anywhere. Is it a coincidence that he’s doing it in front of an audience?

“Thanks for the invite, but I’m all partied out for a while,” you respond as honestly and gracefully as possible. You have no interest in hanging out with Big Tim, but parties aren’t completely off the table forever. It might be fun to bring Jungkook to one eventually, even though he claims he’s uninterested in getting wasted with people he couldn’t care less about. “Can I have my seat back now?”

Big Tim laughs it off like you weren’t being serious. “Aww, don’t be like that. It’s just gonna be a small thing with you, me, and a few others. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

You and him? You almost gag. That doesn’t sound like fun at all. And what’s up with him dismissing your gentle rejection? If he didn’t want to be rejected in front of everyone, he shouldn’t have hyped it up in the first place. Now it just feels like he’s pressuring you into going along with it because he knows you’re too soft to make him look bad in front of others. Unfortunately for him, that’s not going to happen.

“I’m seeing someone—a single father, actually—and I’ve been helping him with his kid. So I don’t have time for your party.” The single father part is a bit of a stretch, but you kind of like the sound of it. He’s your local hot cat dilf after all.

The girls’ jaws all drop at the same time. Big Tim’s smile also drops a bit, but he continues to shrug it off. “Helping a dad with his kid? Anything for a good dicking, I guess.”

Okay, buddy.

You tried to stay courteous about the whole situation, and this is what you get in return. He can say whatever he wants to make himself feel better about himself, but it’s also sad to see not a single one of the other girls step in and call him out on his bullshit. You’re sick of it.

“Are you done? Can you leave now?” You look Big Tim straight in the eyes, although you’re hoping the girls take a hint to leave as well.

They don’t. Because they’re too invested in how Big Tim will respond as he opens his big mouth once more.

“She said leave,” Jungkook snaps out of nowhere. If you had to guess, he was trying to catch up on sleep after that long night with you, and now he’s cranky and mad that Big Tim can’t just shut up and take the L.

Big Tim and the girls collectively turn their heads toward the grumpy boy who cuts the conversation off with a death glare to each and every one of them. As expected, Jungkook is the only person who’d ever take your side on anything. And that’s why he’s the only one who matters to you these days.

At long last, the crowd disperses and everyone goes back to their seats. Just in time for class to begin.

As soon as class ends, you stretch your arms out, slip past all the girls who want the deets on this mysterious dilf you’re seeing, and meet back up with said dilf outside the building.

“Bakery time?” You’re smiling awfully bright despite the shitshow that went down before class. But that’s the effect Jeon Jungkook seems to have on you. You’ll take a bad day every once in a while if he’s there to make it a little better.

“Don’t bakeries usually close early?” he asks in a calm voice as if that isn’t the most devastating thing someone has said to you all day. You hadn’t thought about that.

In a panic, you pull out your phone to check the time and google the bakery’s business hours. Before you can get your answer, the boy chuckles, “It’s open. I already checked. You’re just fun to fuck with.”

You’d fight him for messing with you like that, but you’re too distracted by that chuckle. It’s a rare occurrence that you’ll treasure forever. Who knew he had such a charming laugh? And how lucky are you to be the one to hear it?

“By the way, thanks for earlier,” you say as you hop into his car. “I was about to throw hands at Tim.”

“I thought his name was Jim.” The boy looks so confused. You love it. “But yeah, you should’ve thrown hands for all that shit he said.”

“He wasn’t wrong about the good dicking though,” you hum. You can’t even remember the last time sex was this good.

“Definitely not wrong about that,” Jungkook agrees with a big fat smirk on his face.

When the two of you arrive at the bakery, you’re delighted to see that they haven’t sold out of the famous poppy seed muffins you’ve been eyeing on Yelp. You try to get Jungkook on board with the muffin agenda, but he opts for a buttery croissant—another solid pick. You’ll definitely be stealing a bite out of that flaky pastry of his.

“Which drink are you getting?” you ask, eyeing the drink menu like it’s a map of Disneyland. Everything looks so fucking good that you don’t know where to start.

“A London fog.” You have no idea what that is, but it sounds boring. “It’s earl grey,” he clarifies upon seeing the ignorance in your eyes.

“Isn’t that what old people drink?” you snicker. “You’re a nerd and a senior citizen?”

“Well what are you getting? A hot chocolate, right? Because that’s what babies drink,” he teases back. Now that you think about it, he calls you Baby an awful lot in bed. If the two of you were dating, you wonder if you could get him to call you that all the time. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

You do end up getting the hot chocolate while Jungkook gets his elderly drink. As the barista is ringing the order up at the register, a cute sign catches your attention at the other end of the counter because there’s a cat on it. You wander over to it and pick up one of the baggies with fresh baked cat treats in it. What a coincidence.

“Hey Jungkook, look. Let’s get this for Lucy, too.” Excited by your last-minute find, you scurry back to the register where the boy is already slipping his wallet back into his butt pocket. Fine, if he wants to pay for your breakfast, then you’re paying for the kitty treats.

After you pay and secure all your food, the two of you return to Jungkook’s place. The first thing you do is seek out the kitten who’s busy taking a nap on the boy’s bed instead of in her own.

She blinks at you with heavy eyelids and twitches her nose toward the bag in your hand.

“Good morning, little cutie,” you grin. “I brought you some special treats.”

Her big ears immediately shoot up as she starts pawing at the bag. She’s so fucking cute you could cry.

“You have to ask your daddy if it’s okay to eat one now.” You continue to use your baby voice before turning to the daddy in question standing behind you.

“Just one.” The stern dad voice comes out. “And make sure you break it in half. She’s small, you know.”

“Yes, daddy.” By now, the word slips so naturally off your tongue. You meant for it to be sarcastic this time, but you’re also very aware of what it does to him and his body.

He watches quietly as you break the treat into bits and hold it in your palm for the kitten to gobble up. She meows, optimistic for more special treats, but you stick to the plan and give her more pets and cuddles instead.

“Your daddy is so mean, huh. He doesn’t want you eating any more yummy treats,” you blabber into the kitten’s ear. She makes a whiny sound in agreement.

“Hey, what are you two conspiring about over there?” Jungkook frowns.

“Oh nothing.” You’re about to shoo him away but notice his lock screen flashing on in his hand. It looks like a pic of you and the kitten conspiring together. “Wait, what’s that on your phone?”

“Oh nothing,” he mocks you before changing the subject. “Drink your hot chocolate already. It’s getting cold.”

You take a sip of it as you devour the muffin. Your drink is basically cold chocolate milk at this point, but at least it still tastes amazing. The muffin slaps too.

“Taste,” you say as you offer up your half-eaten muffin to the boy. He takes a bite like a good boyfriend would—except he’s not actually your boyfriend.

“It’s good,” he shrugs as he goes back to the flaky pastry. “The croissant’s better though.”

“Let me taste.” You grab hold of the boy’s chin and taste the butter on his lips. He kisses back with long, tender motions that leave you wanting far more than just a casual makeout session. There’s no doubt in your mind that he tastes better than both the muffin and croissant combined. You pull back for just a second to say, “Hey, wasn’t I promised sex after class?”

“Do the homework first. It’s easy.” Of course Jeon Jungkook has his priorities straight, and of course you listen because you’re craving more of his praise. At least he’s a good influence on you. “And I never said sex specifically, by the way. Is that what you were thinking about in that dirty little head of yours?”

He’s 100% right. Your horny mind just believes whatever it wants to believe. Right now, it's telling you the boy wants it just as much as you do. He’s just better at hiding it.

“It was heavily implied though,” you huff as you take your laptop out and start on a boring coding exercise on his bed. “The sex better be really good!” And that’s a threat.

“When has it not been?” Jungkook shoots you an arrogant look. Good point. And apparently he’s already finished with the assignment because he shuts his computer off and turns his attention to your screen. He sits his ass right behind you, slips his hands up into the hoodie you’re wearing, and whispers into your ear, “Now hurry up and finish. I’m waiting.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #nerd jungkook

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amostnobleyandere · 16 days

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Persephone, swept away into the deep

Yandere! Wriothesley x GN! Reader

Warning(s): yandere, toxic behavior, possessive behavior, mention of blood, violence (Wriothesley beats someone up), stalking, obsessive behavior, unjust execution of the law, possessive behavior, corrupt official Wriothesley (?), drugging (needle injection), kidnapping, captivity, implied stalking, non-consensual touching, forced romantic relationship

A/N: I’m not sure if I did a good job at translating the themes ✨ of the hades and Persephone myth (however slight they may be in this particular fanfic) but I tried ;)

—————————

Every happy customer that came out of your shop would inevitably spread your business through tongue—that’s just the way things worked in Fontaine.

Of course, you weren’t complaining. You were running a thriving business and their lively conversations often brought you joy and pride. The little gardener on off of main street, the florist who sells the most beautiful bouquets you’ve ever seen, the flower shop tucked away like a hidden gem, they’d say, fondness in their tone and the echo of good memories in their minds.

You were proud of the lifestyle you had made for yourself and the reputation you had garnered. Your natural green thumb had made your shop quite popular among commoners and socialites alike, as anyone of any class could stroll inside to find something for a person precious to them; whether it was a child, a spouse, a friend, or an infatuation, you had helped mold their stories, crafting and shifting them around petals and bows.

Though some days, you let yourself dream. Of petals and bows, not meant for someone else, but meant for you. Though your business had seen many love stories, its owner had yet to find a love of their own.

On your worst days, you scoffed and thought to yourself about how ironic your life was.

But…some days, your aching romantic heart would have you sighing wistfully as you watched customer after customer buy carefully cultivated blooms to gift to their beloved. They would leave gleefully, only for you to remain in your shop, watching them walk out with a piece of you. A piece that you wanted to give to your own special someone.

Always watching, never experiencing.

And then suddenly, everything you had built was being torn down by the one thing you desired the most.

—————————

On a day that was insultingly ordinary considering the damning events that followed it, you were sitting in your shop, furiously pruning flowers and cutting stems and leaves. You were a little behind in work, so you had kept your shop open later than you usually would.

A festival was going to be thrown at the center of the city, and that meant you were busier than ever. Business was slow at the time, but it always picked up during events, as it was common for people to take advantage of the merry mood and ask out the apple of their eye, or propose, or buy a bouquet just to enjoy life.

And your bouquets were certainly beautiful, as you had heard from the many couples that walked into your shop, fawning over the arrangements and each other. You were sure you would see many lovers come into your shop once the joyous celebrations began.

You sighed, feeling the solitude of the your profession begin to seem depressing. It made you happy knowing your creations would be appreciated, yet, you knew the festival would end up torturing your heart with the same stale loneliness you often felt.

Friends had invited you to come with them to enjoy the festival together, so you weren’t all alone. Ultimately, you had declined.

Business would be booming.

…Plus, it wouldn’t be as special if you couldn’t go with someone special. It would only hurt to go out into the bustling streets and to see all those people holding hands, touching arms, carrying your bouquets, while your side was cold and your hands were empty…

You snipped at a rainbow rose a little too hard, hissing as the tip of the shears nicked your finger. You watched in mild panic and exasperation as the blood began to fill the small cut, feeling a sting form in your finger. Reaching for the medical kit you kept close by, you swiftly treated and bandaged yourself, watching the gauze go from white to a bright red.

Shaking your head, you waved away the pain and your nasty thoughts. You were sure your friends would be fine without you and, more than anything, you needed to be here to sell your flowers. It would be a waste to throw out your beautiful blooms because you let them wither, and soon customers would be grabbing for them…and who knows? Maybe you might meet someone.

Maybe you would even find someone to enjoy the festival with….

You heard the telltale ding of a bell and looked up, peaking out from behind the wall of floral remains you had constructed around yourself.

A man walked into the shop, and the first thing you noticed is that he was handsome. And big. Like, slightly intimidating big. A large, built stature, with broad shoulders and heavy boots on long legs. You pinched yourself, feeling your cheeks slightly heat up. Who were you to get flustered? And by a stranger? Pull it together.

“Hello!” You greeted cheerily, thankfully turning on your usual customer service voice without problem. “How can I help you today?”

“You’re still open?” The man asked, a note of surprise in his voice. The question sounded weirdly familiar for it to be spoken by a stranger, but you chose to ignore it. Plenty of people knew your hours, it wouldn’t be odd for one of them to send a new customer over.

You paused, taking him in. The stranger was tall, dark, and brooding, a person that looked strangely out of place in your little safe haven that was crammed to the brim with mosaics of colorful flora.

However, his eyes were the clearest color you had ever seen. They were like steel in their cool quickness, taking seconds to size you up. You unconsciously shrunk under the pressure of his gaze. Still, you smiled up at him.

“Yes, sir. We’re still open. What can I get for you?”

“Well, to tell you the truth, I’m not exactly sure. I came here because of a recommendation; they say you’re the best in town, with the freshest flowers. I’m guessing you outsource from the country?”

“No, sir. I grow them myself.” You said, still smiling sweetly.

A flash of recognition behind those steel eyes. “Ah. You’re the owner then?”

“Yes, sir.”

He hummed, looking away in thought. “I’d like an all blue bouquet—something with an air of delicacy to it. Nothing too fancy, just something pretty and light.”

That sounded…really romantic. Delicate? Pretty? Those were words people used to describe bouquets with romantic intentions behind them. You had heard them time and time again, as you carefully put together arrangements and your customer fawned over the person it was for, tone sugary sweet. Those words never failed to clog up your chest with a bitter jealously.

A feeling of disappointment filled your chest and your heart sank. Of course, he was already going with someone. It seemed that everyone, except for you, had a date for the festival. Of course. That made sense. Anyone that good looking would most likely have a date—

You smiled, sweeping away the disappointment and putting back on a false merry face. You had just met this man, really. What was there to be sad about? You decided to fill the silence that was quickly making you want to curl up into a ball and hide.

“So you’ve got a date for the festival? I’m sure they’ll love it, since you seem to know what they’ll like. Can I get a name for the order?”

“Wriothesley. And, no. I haven’t got a date.”

Your brain short circuited.

“But you’re so good looking?” You blurted out, the thought in your head coming out of your mouth without warning.

Wriothesley looked momentarily stunned, and you wanted to scream. Of all the times to embarrass yourself in front of a cute guy, it had to be now—

“A-Ah!” You stuttered out. “I’m sorry! Sometimes my mouth moves faster than my brain! I just said what I was thinking, I hope you’re not insulted by it…or uncomfortable….not that I meant to insult you—“

He laughed, the sound startling you. When he looked at you again, he seemed less guarded, his eyes shining with mirth as he gazed at you with interest. Oh, and that smile. Oh wow. That. Wow.

“You know, people are usually too afraid to say stuff like that to my face. Or really, they’re too afraid to say anything to my face. Guess I was just lucky to meet you today, huh?” He grinned and let his voice drop as he spoke. The glint in his eyes turned bright, like a dancing flame. He leaned into your space, letting one arm rest on the counter.

You felt the smooth words roll down your back and over your skin, excitement or fear (or maybe a mix of both) running up your spine and through the rest of your body.

You laughed, trying to play off his words as if they were meant to be friendly. (At least, you thought they were meant to be friendly.) Maybe the naturally deep tone of his voice and his intimidating aura made your brain misinterpret harmless words as…predatory.

You grinned. “Well, I don’t know about luck, but everyone deserves a compliment every once in a while, right?”

He leaned back, that dangerous glint disappearing into his eyes as if it was never there. He crossed his arms, looking smug.

“Right.”

Silence filled the air again, and your curiosity got the best of you quickly.

“Goodness, I’m sorry but who is this for then?”

He chuckled and you were immediately relieved that he wasn’t annoyed with you. People didn’t like it when others pried into their business. The thought of Wriothesley with his leather boots, pretty face, and icy eyes glaring at you with disdain nearly sent you into shock.

“It’s for…a co-worker, you could say.” He continued. “She does a lot for me and I thought it might be nice to get her a gift to show my appreciation. Everyone’s in a good mood with the festival coming around, so I might as well, you know?” He smiled. “Sorry to disappoint you, though. No romantic feelings involved.”

You nodded, a weird feeling of relief filling your chest after finding out that a man you didn’t know and that you probably would never see again did not have a date for the festival.

Maybe you were just glad to know that you wouldn’t be the only person going without a partner.

You began to gather sample flowers, spreading them out between you fingers and taking comfort in the familiar weight of them in your hands.

“Not disappointed at all.” I’m also single, you thought, but thankfully didn’t say out loud. “I guess I’ve just gotten so used to lovebirds walking into my shop, I was surprised you weren’t one of them.”

“Because of my face?” He asked, amusement seeping into his tone. You wanted to smack that smile right off of his smug, beautiful face. Of course, you wouldn’t, because that would be a crime to everyone else who had eyes. You couldn’t mess up that piece of art.

You nodded, your face burning. “Because of your face.” You confirmed.

“Well, I’m flattered.” He said.

You thrusted the sample flowers out in front of you, mortified that he was making your already embarrassing situation worse with teasing.

“Pick out the ones you like.” You said, your face practically on fire.

He did, without further comment at that, but a smirk pulled at his lips the entire time. He looked at you, with that grin molded onto his perfect lips, more than he did the flowers in your hands.

He refrained from torturing you with teasing remarks for the rest of the conversation, and when you told him it would be ready for pick up in a few hours, he gently placed a bag of mora on the counter.

Only when he was walking out the door did you realize how much mora he had given you.

Your eyes bulged as you peeked into the bag, nearly fainting at the amount. Who carries this much on them?! What if he had gotten robbed?! Well, he would probably never get robbed looking like…that, but still.

“Hey!! Wait—Sir!! You gave me way too much!”

He waved as he closed the door behind him, the bell ringing cheerily as he ignored you protests without even turning around.

You stood gaping behind the counter. You turned to the bag, determinedly picking out the correct amount and putting the rest away so that you could throw it at him when he came back. Not his face, though. Never his face.

A few hours later, he came back, his face neutral and undisturbed, like nothing in the world could move him to react.

He saw you, and his expression twitched and changed, looking just as smug as when he left.

You wordlessly pushed his bouquet, which you had worked extra hard on out of spite, not because you wanted him to like it or anything, towards him. Again, without saying anything, you pushed the bag of mora back towards him.

He quirked an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut, also determined to win the quiet challenge that you had started. He (rather cheekily) slid the bag back towards you, a smile fighting to pull onto his face.

You, more forcefully this time, slid the bag back towards him, face betraying no emotion.

Eyes sparking with amusement, he held out his hand.

Oh my Archons. You thought. What does that mean? He doesn’t want to….does he? You hesitatingly raised your hand in response, suspicious of the man in front of you. He gently slid his hand under yours, making your heart pound in your rib cage. His gloves covered most of his hand, but the skin that did touch you was startlingly cold. Your skin downright tingled where his touched yours.

Whether it was from the temperature or just him, you didn’t know.

He placed the bag of mora in your hands, a graceless plop and a cheerily jingle sounding through the quiet room.

Okay. You take it back. This mora was going directly at his face.

“This mora is going right at your face.”

“What?”

“What?” You parroted. Inside, you were crying. The first time you’ve ever threatened a customer and it’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

He chuckled, the sound low and deep and long and archons even his laugh sounded angelic.

“I could’ve sworn you just—“

“I didn’t.” You cut him off, panicking. You pushed the bouquet towards him, hiding behind it. “Enjoy your day. Thank you for your purchase. Have fun at the festival.”

“…Thanks.” He said, still amused, but following your lead and taking the flowers from your waiting hands. For a moment, maybe on purpose, his hands brushed yours, the touch sending a spark of electricity up and down your arms, making your heart beat faster….Must have been the cold from his skin, sending you into shock or something.

He left the shop (without the bag of mora) and you wistfully thought that you would never see that beautiful face again, kicking yourself for not asking him out. You were both single, right? Right??

Ultimately, you went home with the same familiar wistful feeling that soon turned to giddiness at having almost held hands with such a handsome man—his personality was odd but that could be overlooked.

Overall, it was a good day.

——————————

Except he was there the next day.

And the next.

….And the next.

Everyday he would order a bouquet of a different color. Once he ran out of colors, he began grilling you on what kinds of flower combinations you liked best. You would tell him, practically shaking while trying to prevent yourself from imploding, and that’s what he would order. He spent an enormous amount of money at your shop as the ridiculous mora bag battles continued (you were going to throw it at his face, you really were. You just needed to muster up the courage).

He would take the flowers home, and you would be left with a burning face and a quivering heart.

Then one day he asked you if you would like to go out. With him. Together. And you said yes, tying a bow around his order with trembling hands as a strangling giddiness filled up your entire chest.

So, you went to the festival with him right after work.

For the first time in weeks you were closing the shop and stepping out into the fresh air during the middle of the day.

You had an amazing time.

You found out that Wriothesley was extremely funny, and that his dry, sarcastic wit could have you doubling over and laughing in seconds. You found out that he liked tea like, a lot. Like a concerning amount. You found out that the co-worker he gave the first of many bouquets to is a melusine and a nurse. You found out that he talked to the Chief Justice regularly and somehow knew a lot of important people.

You explained to Wriothesley that you actually did have a life outside of flowers. You told him about your friends, your hobbies, and whatever else you could think of in the moment, feeling comfortable with him after just a few hours together.

He bought you food, somehow correctly guessing your tastes at every stall you visited. When you protested and offered to buy him something in return, he merely shook his head with a smile and said you could buy him lunch another day.

You walked together through the streets under golden lights, eating delicious food and buying trinkets. At the end of the night, you tentatively inched your hand toward his, and he interlaced your fingers together, holding your warm palm against his cold one tightly.

You felt yourself grinning like an idiot, thinking that absolutely nothing could change the way you were feeling.

Everything was going great until you got back to your shop, laughing and chatting idly with the man beside you.

Your heart stopped as you realized that something was wrong, and your hand left Wriothesley’s for the first time that night as you ran towards the open door.

The entire place had been ransacked. The money in the cash register was gone. Your precious flowers—countless blooms that you had taken the time to grow and cut had either been stolen or trampled on. One window had been smashed in with a brick. You lifted up your foot, feeling the shattered glass break into smaller shards under the pressure—Archons, it was everywhere. Luckily, the small vault you keep most of your savings in was still closed but dented in multiple places and on its side.

You nearly collapsed on the floor right then and there. It was only Wriothesley, who caught you as you were falling to the ground, that kept you from completely breaking down. You were mourning. All of your flowers. All of your hard work, ripped from your hands, without so much as a warning.

You felt rage and misery burn in your chest, resulting in hot tears running down your face as you pathetically picked up the ruined flowers scattered across the shop floor. Next to you, shadow cast Wriothesley’s face in darkness, hiding his expression from view. You heard him assure you that he would take care of it, that he would fix all of this for you, as he told you not to worry in that perpetually assertive tone of his. Your muddled and distressed mind immediately clung onto it like a life line, desperate for something to ground you.

Wriothesley would take care of it, you told yourself. If not him, then who would help you?

—————————

You found out soon after that the man who had robbed you was a rival store owner whose business had gone under ever since you had moved in. His storefront was situated on one of the more populated streets, streets that saw more foot traffic and that attracted customers of a higher class. Still, he had been losing to you, a small shop on some nowhere street, for months. In the end, arrogance and jealousy had driven him to attempt destroying your business.

Whether it be from fear and intimidation, or hopelessness from losing all the money you had made in the past couple months, he had hoped that you would chose to pack up and leave after he ruined the inside of your shop.

Fortunately, he was not a master criminal. A few shop owners on your street had seen his face and identified him to the guards. According to rumors you had heard from friends, he fought the guards during his arrest, shouting that he was not some lowly commoner to be pushed around. The guards and some mysteriously clothed people flooded around him, dragging him to the court house and sentencing him within the hour. He was allowed to go back to his shop, as his home was above it, but was put on house arrest for the time being and had guards stationed outside of every window to await further punishment.

It had happened so…quickly.

Wriothesley, during all of this, was very supportive.

—————————

It all came crashing down on the last night of the festival, a week after you had been robbed.

You were in the process of walking home before you realized that you had left your keys in your bag.

…Which was at the shop.

…That you would have to go back to.

Groaning, you made yourself turn around and trek back towards the storefront so that you could actually get into your house.

As you walked down the main strip of stalls and shops, you realized with a bitter heart that you would have to pass the shop of the man who made your life hell to get there and back quickly. You were glad that he had been caught and sentenced swiftly, but you were still incredibly angry about the damage that had been done to your business. The mental and emotional wounds left from the shock of seeing everything you had worked for destroyed were still fresh.

You fastened your pace as the night lamps began to turn on, the sky quickly turning dark as they became your only source of light. You knew the city was mostly a safe place to live, but that didn’t mean crime never happened, and it would be just your luck for you to get robbed a second time.

Then there was shouting.

You slowed your pace as you heard a voice echo off the tall buildings, only amplifying the panicked screams.

Uh oh. Had you walked right into a crime scene?

You looked around you, noticing that there were no guards in sight. Hopefully they had noticed the trouble and were taking care of it.

You sighed. You really needed to get into your house, as you weren’t too keen on sleeping on a bench for the night. Cursing whatever being had brought this upon you, you continued forward, walking in the shadows and hoping to avoid whatever drama was happening near the home of the man who had robbed you.

You turned a corner, freezing as you took in the sight of a group of men huddled together, seemingly trying to apprehend someone—

Wait. Was that—

You recognized that figure—those boots—that coat…

What was your boyfriend doing here in the middle of the night?

Swiftly, you moved back out of the light, eyes trained on the man you could now clearly recognize. You watched as Wriothesley raised his fist, his knuckles connecting harshly with someone’s jaw. You startled at the harsh noise of skin splitting skin.

You felt yourself flinch as blood splattered across the pavement. For a moment, you were grateful for the imposing figures blocking your view of the violent scene.

The victim was splayed across the stone due to the force of the blow, thrown right into the circle of people that had formed around him, pathetically whimpering as he tried to pick himself up.

You watched as he was dragged away, looking genuinely terrified, screaming bloodcurdling words as he went mad with fear. His pleas fell on deaf ears as those around him stood still, Wriothesley silently watching as he was picked up and thrown into the back of a carriage. The door squealed as he yelled that he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve to go to the Fortress of Meropide, please—doors slamming shut, cutting off his final sentence as the men and the carriage disappeared into the night.

Wriothesley stood under a street light, a short distance away from where you hid in the shadows. His body was tense, his back drawn tight as he gazed at the retreating carriage, with the man he had assaulted and doomed to a life in prison lying within.

You stumbled back, you feet scuffling against the pavement. The noise sounded like an explosion in the dead quiet of the street.

His entire body stilled. He turned around, almost in slow motion, his eyes widening in horror as your gazes met.

You spun on your heel and ran, heart pounding in your chest. Heavy footfalls followed you, leather hitting stone with threatening thumps that seemed to get closer to you with every passing second.

You got to your shop, flinging open the door and rushing to the back of the building, heading towards the closet where you kept all of your supplies. Hearing the bell above your door chime mockingly, signaling that Wriothesley was in your shop oh Archons, you slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.

For some reason, you could have never imagined him being so violent. You were shocked and terrified, seeing your new boyfriend, who you had only ever thought of as safe, as anything but. Now you knew. He was dangerous. You were so stupid for trusting a complete stranger—

You heard him run towards your hiding place, calling out to you as the heavy foot falls slowed to a stop.

“Y/N.” He said, voice calm and level, betraying no emotion at all. It was like he was discussing the weather and hadn’t just chased you down the street.

Your breathe hitched in your throat. Somewhere, in your frayed mind, you hoped, prayed he would just go if you were quiet enough—

“I never meant for you to see that. I’m sorry. Let me explain.”

The doorknob began to turn. It stopped, hitting the lock.

You heard rustling and then a faint jangle as Wriothesley stepped away from the door.

You had left your keys in your bag.

The bag was on the counter, the keys were in your bag—

….He knew where you kept your keys?

You had never told him that.

The door knob began to turn. You grabbed onto the it with a white-knuckled grip, stopping it from the inside.

Your heart thrummed in your chest, beating rapidly as you desperately held onto the cool metal.

“Leave me alone!” Please was left unsaid. You shouted the words, terror making you shake and tremble.

Wriothesley fell silent. You heard him lean his weight against the door, his movements causing it to creak.

The doorknob stopped turning.

You prayed that he wouldn’t try to force it, or worse, break the door down. You didn’t know if it would hold, or if you could hold on, considering how strong he was.

You imagined his hulking figure standing outside, only a few mere inches of wood separating you, towering over you from your spot on the floor.

You were practically paralyzed with fear, and didn’t know what you would do if he actually managed to get in and get his hands on you—

“Damn it, I ruined it all, didn’t I?” Wriothesley murmured.

You jumped, not expecting the despairing admission amidst your racing thoughts that were trying to pinpoint where you had went wrong in life.

His usually playful voice was monotone, eerily flat for the self deprecating words he spoke.

You didn’t deign him with a response. You merely listened to the quiet that followed, feeling more scared than you would have been if he had been raging and banging on the door. There was something about the silence; something about it felt foreboding, like a threat was creeping up behind you and you couldn’t hear it no matter how hard you tried.

You heard him turn away a few minutes later, heavy footfalls walking towards the door, and finally the bell signaling his departure.

For a few minutes, you sat there and waited.

Eventually, you opened the closet just a sliver, looking out into the dim lighting with flickering eyes, checking every possible corner that he could be hiding in. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t in here.

You slid out of the closet and almost immediately ducked behind the counter, still shaking from the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

Shakily, you peeked out from behind the counter, checking for any sign of him outside. When you found the street to be devoid of him, you silently gasped in relief.

You ripped your keys out of the door with rushed hands.

You went home alone, without Wriothesley, who had taken it upon himself to personally walk you there almost every night of the week. A part of it felt strange to deviate from the routine, but you needed no reminder to know that the man you had trusted and spent time with all week was now a dangerous threat. You ran to the door of your home, opening it hurriedly and slamming it shut.

You tossed and turned as you slept that night, a doomed feeling settling in your churning stomach.

—————————

The next day, you took measures to start rebuilding. Perhaps you were just frantic to get back to some sense of normalcy after having the rug ripped out from under you the other night—or maybe you were desperate to have something to keep your mind off of the buzzing anxiety that was constantly gnawing at the back of your mind.

The man who broke in had already been put on trial and sentenced to an undetermined amount of time in the Fortress of Meropide, and had also been forced to cough up more than enough mora to cover the damages.

This, oddly enough, had all been told to you by a third party, someone hired by the court to watch over legal proceedings.

Someone was pulling the strings behind the case, and you didn’t want to think about who it was, just in case the pieces started falling together. (Deep down, you already knew.)

When you had heard he was being sent to the Fortress, you felt something in your gut twist unpleasantly, a kind of stone-like anxiety that weighed and sunk a permanent pit in your stomach. People who went there didn’t usually come back, or if they did, they weren’t the same. They weren’t viewed the same, either. What would happen to him once he came back? If he came back?

You shivered as the memory of him being dragged away resurfaced.

You sighed as you swept up errant pieces of class, determined to discard of every shard before you allowed any more precious customers or flowers to come through the door. The window had already been replaced, as a very nervous man had knocked on your door a few days after the…incident with Wriothesley, and claimed that he had been sent to repair it. You hadn’t even talked to anyone about fixing the window. A sinking feeling appeared in your chest as you watched the jumpy man chip away at glass and wood, his movements tense and swift. When you went to close the shop, you checked if you had locked the door three separate times before rushing home, practically running through the stone streets, running from absolutely nothing at all.

There was no sign of Wriothesley during the months it took your shop to recover. You were glad that he had taken what you had said to him in your moment of fear seriously. Still, you feared that he would show up on some random day, at some random time, and catch you off guard. That you would be reminded of the violence that seemed to follow him like a shadow, leaving trails of devastation in his wake.

Everyday you went home glancing over your shoulder while walking briskly down the street, always making sure to make it home before dark.

—————————

You unlocked the door to your home, hurriedly glancing behind you as you shoved the keys into the lock, pushing the door in quickly as it gave way. You closed and locked the door behind you, allowing yourself to relax minutely against the cool frame.

“Back so soon? I noticed you’ve been closing earlier nowadays. What’s that about?”

You froze, an ice cold fear creeping through your veins.

There, sitting in the dark of your unlit living room, was the man you had been simultaneously avoiding and thinking about constantly for months.

You could make out the silhouette of his hulking figure, leaning back into your favorite chair with his fingers laced together and knees spread apart, relaxed and causal. His eyes, which always held a mildly scrutinizing gaze, had turned razor sharp—they hadn’t moved from you since the moment you had stepped into the room. You were a pinned butterfly under that look, being dissected and picked apart by glacial, stormy irises.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice coming out a little more shakily than intended. You tried not to hyperventilate. You really tried, but you could already feel your chest tightening, like just being in his presence was suffocating—

He stood up. Rooted in place, you didn’t dare move. If you tried to run, you knew he would catch you.

He moved towards you slowly, like he knew just as well as you did that you couldn’t escape.

He stopped a foot away from you, his height easily trumping yours, his figure casting a large, beastly shadow in the dim lighting.

You tilted your head back to look him in the eye. Even now, those icy eyes were beautiful. You thought it was unfair. Now that you knew what he was, what he was capable of, you thought, his eyes should come as warning. They were the eyes of a predator. And yet, still cold and steely, clear like cryo vision that hung from his hip, which you had never even seen until now.

Still beautiful, reminding you of clear water and arctic oceans and quiet. It was so quiet.

Neither of you spoke. Neither of you dared to break the careful silence.

He reached up, curled fingers gently caressing your cheek, dragging down along the side of your neck, as if a simple touch with too much force behind it would shatter you.

His eyes flickered to the place where your shirt had lifted to expose your collarbone, coat hanging off your shoulders and pulling the fabric down.

He ran his fingers over the exposed skin, making you shiver as you felt rough, calloused pads run across you gingerly, lightly. A delicate touch from a hardened man. He looked back at you, his eyes soft. Intense. Adoring. He had moved closer in the last few seconds, you remarked. You only noticed because you had to crane your head up more to look at him. His chest touched yours. He leaned down, ghosting his lips over your forehead. His hand had moved. One had settled on your waist, holding and trapping you close to him.

You felt a prick in the side of your neck, vision going black as you collapsed into his arms.

—————————

The next time you woke up, you weren’t in your house anymore. There was gauzy, heavy fabric hanging above you. You had been placed in a canopy bed in a room that was expensively furnished, and yet somehow untouched. You were in a bed, which was in a prison, at the bottom of the ocean.

Wriothesley walked in only an hour after you woke. You had a feeling he had been routinely checking to see if you were awake.

He looked down at you, his eyes painfully tender in a way that you regretted not noticing before. There was a fondness, a suffocating fondness, which told you that all those things he now whispered to you at night—how he wanted to protect you, how he had longed to have you for so long, how he had been watching you from afar with his heart in his hands, just waiting for the right moment to give it to you—

His eyes told you that they were all true.

Somehow, you couldn’t hate him.

Wriothesley had been living as a lonely prisoner in his own kingdom—his underwater kingdom that he ruled, because he thrived on the depths of the cold, dark ocean and its inhabitants that yielded to his power.

And yet the king of the underworld yearned for just a little bit of life. Life that you were familiar with—life that you thrived off of, and that thrived in return under your guidance. Life that you loved.

Life that had attracted you to him.

You didn’t know if anyone still talked about you on the surface; if they talked about your existence, or more so your disappearance, in hushed whispers with shifty eyes. No one talked about you down here—no one knew you existed, except for the head nurse and your husband.

You had been stolen away, under the ocean, that little shop off main street missing its owner forevermore.

You, who had always been surrounded by the life of the surface, had been transported to the underworld, a land of misery and lost souls, away from all life, surrounded and trapped by the love you once longed for—and mourning the life you once had.

—————————

Reader: *lets go of Wriothesley’s hand bc they got robbed*

Wriothesley: oh this jerk is gonna pay *sends the guy who robbed you to the bottom of the sea*

he’s been waiting to hold that hand for so long )):< wtf dude

216 notes · View notes

look-at-the-soul · 8 months

Text

Grandma knows best

Tommy Shelby x reader (+Grandma)

Summary: Thomas Shelby is a well known gánster, reckless, fearless, stubborn, restless… he might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t an inconsiderate man. Not specially with an elderly woman.

A/N: 🤷🏻‍♀️ grandmas definitely knows what’s best for us 👵🏻♥️✨ nothing but a fluff moment…

See the Grandma series here

Word count: 3,303

Taking off you coat, you tried to rub your hands to warm them up. Announcing you just arrived, barely noticing an unfamiliar voice.

But to your surprise, once you stepped into the kitchen, you found the least person you thought that could ever be there.

The Small Heath devil, Thomas Shelby.

“Oh darling, there you are.” You grandma greeted you with a wide smile. “I was just telling Mr. Shelby about you.”

“Grandma.” You were paralyzed, frozen in spot.

Giving you a subtle double look, he had to force himself to compose, nothing your grandmother had said about you prepared him. Your beauty was beyond words. And over the last hour he had heard nothing but compliments and good things, he had to admit he had been curious about that young lady that seemed to be exceptional.

A long time ago you learned walking alone once is dark is a bad idea, but crossing your eyes with that man was worse.

“We haven’t done anything wrong Mr. Shelby…” you tried to explain as the man stared perplexed, his man spread as if he owed everything in that house.

“Sweetheart Mr. Shelby helped me with the groceries and bread, the basket was heavy and he offered to walk me home.”

Noticing the terror in your eyes, he cleared his throat.

“My job is done here Mrs. Barwick, it was lovely to meet you, thank you for the tea.”

Standing up, he grabbed his peaky cap, the razor blade caught the light and shone in your direction. But your grandmother had a different idea.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You’ve to stay for dinner.”

“Absolutely not.” You rushed to interrupt. Looking down at the tone you just used to answer your grandma you mumbled an apology.

“I really appreciate the offer bu-”

“This is absurd, you can’t leave until you’ve had dinner Mr. Shelby, I must insist, and I need to know the rest of the story of that caravan trip you did.” She replied scolding him just like she did with you, in that motherly tone.

Frowning you looked from her, to the well known gánster. There was no way back now, he was staying for dinner.

“Now, would you like some more tea?” She offered to him, as Thomas opened his mouth to say no, your grandma filled the cup again. It looked ridiculous in his hand.

The most dangerous man in the country drinking tea from a cup decorated with flowers. ¡In your bloody kitchen!

“Milk?” She offered, ignoring the fact that he could kill her anytime. You’ve heard all kinds of stories about him and the tortures he used among his enemies.

“Yes thank you.”

“Sweetheart, would you mind helping me here?” She pointed at the pot next to her knees, it was getting harder for her to bend down these days.

“I’ll get that for you.” He offered and in mere seconds he was crunching down to get it.

“Oh bless you.” Your grandma offered him another smile. “Why are you still standing there?” She called to get your attention.

Shaking your head a little, you were able to move past the initial shock, but still threw the man a side look just to make sure he wasn’t planning to blind your grandmother.

“Shall I cut these?” Mr. Shelby proposed pointing at the potatoes, after your grandmother nodded he produced a knife from his pocket, making you gasp. “Everything alright Miss Y/LN?”

“If you excuse me, I’ll come back in a minute.” She raised her eyebrows at you before she left.

“Listen it’s just the two of us alright? I pay the taxes and give money to church but I won’t pay you for protection.” You should have kept your mouth shut but for some reason, adrenaline made you talkative and you were nervous, afraid for your life, for your grandma.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not here to collect any money.” He raised his hands in defense. “Your grandmother is adorable.”

“What?” You asked perplexed, thinking of a possible way to get out of the house safely.

“You heard me, I’m not here to do any harm to you or her.” He clicked his tongue. “She said you’re a smart woman, you’ve nothing to worry about.”

“Then why are you here?” Confusion was written all over you.

“She offered me tea and cookies… oh! And dinner.”

“You can’t stay!”

“Y/N! Where are your manners? That’s no way to treat such a gentleman.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at her words. Thomas Shelby a gentleman. He narrowed his eyes, and gave you an offended look.

“Set the table, I’ll finish this.” She ordered.

Doing as she asked, you went to collect the plates.

“Not that ones! The fancy set!” She instructed pointing the spoon at you.

Tommy chuckled at your surprised expression, but quickly looked down to continue his task chopping the vegetables.

But he’s a criminal! He’s a gangster! You wanted to say. Yet, she wanted to use the delicate china reserved only for important occasions.

Placing the plates, you took then the silverware from the drawer. Seconds later you heard them laughing over something he had said, your grandmother’s voice praising him for his sense of humor. She had no idea who he was! Or what he had done.

“And what did he say afterwards?” He asked your grandma, you found him leaning against the sink, his body turned to face her.

“He said, I swore I saw you first, it had to be me the one who would make the first move.” Your grandmother stated proudly.

Here she was, seventy something years old telling the number one Birmingham’s criminal her love story with your grandfather.

“I told him, of course honey, you chose me. He always thought it was him, but it was me the one who chose him.”

“How long were you married?” He asked with interest.

“Over fifty years, most of my life. Can you believe that?”

“That’s lovely.” He admitted. The words sounded so wrong in his mouth, he should be cursing or shouting.

“Dinner is ready.” Your grandma announced. “Y/N help our guest.”

You wanted to roll your eyes.

“Food smells amazing.” He complimented.

“Would you like a piece of bread? Tommy?”

“Grandma!”

“What? He says I can call him that.” She defended.

“Please.” He smiled and you groaned internally. “I’m going to wash my hands.”

As soon as he disappeared, your grandma grabbed your arm. “You need to put a smile on that face my darling, can’t you see? An educated gentleman is visiting us, he smells nice, has a sense of humor, is polite and handsome… have you seen his eyes? It’s like a piece of heaven!”

“So what? He’s a-”

“You need to find yourself a decent man, Y/N.”

“He’s not a decent man.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Grandma, he’s an arrogant, selfish and dangerous-”

“May I have this honor?” He asked interrupting your little disagreement, offering his arm to your grandma, he guided her tenderly towards the table. He probably heard everything you said.

“So, Tommy what is that you do?”

“I’ve a business, we sell car parts in different countries.”He wasn’t lying.

“I’ve never used a car!”

“Then I should take you for a ride.”

You felt about to combust, he was charming your grandmother and she believed him!

Grinding your teeth, you placed the food on his plate.

“I really appreciate this.” He gave you a twisted smile.

Your grandmother’s hand came to rest on his arm. “I’m so glad I came across you this afternoon. It’s been lovely to share this meal with you.”

“I’m flattered you think that.”

“You don’t have a wife waiting at home, do you Tommy?” Your grandma asked bluntly and you almost chocked on your food.

“No, Mrs Barwick. I’m not married.”

“How is that possible?” She shook her head. “You deserve a good woman!” Then, looking at you she said; “what was that tale I told you to find a husband?”

“I don’t know grandma, I’m done with my dinner if you excuse m-”

But the look she threw in your direction, made you reconsider leaving the table. Sometimes she didn’t need to use her words. One look was more than enough.

You took a deep breath uncomfortable, and it only grew as you could feel Mr. Shelby’s eyes on you.

“Your grandma mentioned you sell books.” He asked to ease the tension.

“Yes.”

“Oh but show him! About that collection you got.” Your grandma encouraged.

“What is it about? Eh?”

“She’s a great seller.” She praised.

“Oh.” Mr. Shelby’s eyes sparkled. He was having fun. “Really?”

He was the most irritating person you’ve ever met.

“It’s about the Greek mithology.”

“Fascinating.” He nodded. “Why don’t you stop by my office tomorrow? I’d like the entire collection.”

“That’s wonderful!” Your grandma beamed.

“All set then.” He ran his tongue over his lips and then, tilted his head. “You made me remember about my grandmother.”

“What was a she like?” Your grandmother asked, batting her lashes.

He had her eating from his palm deliberately.

Studying the man before your eyes, something changed inside you. How could he be so cold-hearted? He seemed like a total different person in that very moment, his guard was down, posture totally relaxed, he even had a smile on his face.

Catching you off guard, you had to look away from him.

“She was a gypsy princess.” His blue eyes filled with nostalgia. “Thanks to her I learned all about values like respect, loyalty. She showed me how to ride a horse and light a fire.”

“It must’ve been hard for her to be on the road.”

“Actually no, she loved to be free, said how nature provided us for everything we might need.” He explained all while his deep voice was dragging you into something you couldn’t name. “It’s getting late and I don’t want to keep you up. Thank you once again.”

“Thank you for a lovely evening Tommy, would love to have you again for dinner .”

He gave you another look, not so subtle this time.

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all, right Y/N?” She pressed her elbow against your arm. “Walk him to the door my dear.”

Offering his hand to her, she whispered into his ear; “She doesn’t trust easily, you’ll need to work harder.”

Tommy tried to disguise his chuckle, after winking at your grandmother he thanked you too.

“I really enjoyed it, hope to see you around?” He arranged the peaky cap on his head and placed his hand on your arm.

“Goodnight Mr. Shelby.” Was all you could think of saying, still confused by everything that happened.

“Goodnight Mr. Shelby?” Your grandmother mimicked your voice. “You’ll need to do better next time, fix your hair, wear your new shoes… a little something! Y/N I placed him in a silver tray for you and you only said two words to him. Sweetheart you need to do something to catch his attention.”

Opening your mouth to protest, but she continued rambling. “But be discreet, you must stand out from the other women, don’t throw yourself at him, leave him wanting more,” her eyes sparkled in excitement. “A hand on his shoulder, hold his gaze… or pretend to brush something from his coat and then look at his lips.”

“Grandma, stop.” You blushed.

“Goodness, I can’t do anything else for you! He was right here!” She took the plates to the kitchen. “A smile might help, you need to ask him about his day, fix his handkerchief…”

“He was only here because you didn’t give him another option.” A sigh escaped your lips.

“My sweet girl, you’ve everything he needs,” she cupped your chin gently. “But you’re too shy! He kept staring at you…”

“I think your imagination is wild.”

“Y/NY/LN,” you stopped midway as she called your full name. Oh oh. “I like him to be my grandson-in-law… so you gotta do something soon.”

And knowing her the way you did, you realized there was no way back now. Once an idea got into her head, she wouldn’t let that slip away.

“I’ve been praying for this moment for so long!” You heard her say from across the room and then she mumbled something about that blue dress that suited you so well.

As you were about to clean the kitchen you heard a knock on the door. Opening, you were surprised to find the most terrifying man on your doorstep once more.

Your heart rate went up immediately, he was standing with his hands crossed in front of his body, head hanging low, you could only see his lips under the peaky cap.

“I’ll be waiting for you Miss Y/LN, tomorrow ten o’clock, I’ll make sure to send someone to help you with the books.”

“That won’t be necessary, I can carry them by myself.” You insisted, still unsure about his intention.

“Fairly well, as you wish.”

As he turned around to leave, something made you stop him.

“I want to thank you for helping my grandmother.” Never, in a million years you imagined you’d be grateful for something he did.

Lifting his jaw to stare at you with those piercing blue eyes that could set anyone into stone, he gave you a smile.

“I just did the right thing.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve nothing to be afraid of by the way, don’t believe everything you hear.”

“I just learned that, you can be considerate and charming sometimes.”

“Then consider yourself lucky,” he winked at you, “that doesn’t happen too often.”

Looking past your shoulder, Tommy noticed your grandmother’s head poking, moving her hands excitedly towards you.

****

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @red-riding-wood

#That’s what Cill said #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fan fic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction

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bohemianblasphemy · 1 month

Text

Patience

Billy Butcher x fem!reader

i hope you enjoy, idk how good this is lmao✨

CW: Daddy kink,some spanking and aftercare, unprotected sex, bit of fluff at the end✨

The clock on the wall ticked away the day, your patience was wearing thin as you waited for Butcher.

He had been working longer hours for the past two weeks, his mission with the Boys vs. Vought and The Seven had taken up a lot of his time which in return made you feel neglected by him.

you’d wait up through the late hours of the night; hoping for some loving from Billy- only for him to stumble home at god knows what time and go straight to bed; only to be up again a few hours later and back out the door, leaving you with a quick kiss and a “have a good day”.

His authoritative nature drew you to him like a moth to flame- the countless nights of him absolutely railing you till you came hard on his cock, moaning his favourite word ‘Daddy’ into his ear brought a throb to your heat- but lately that buzz had mixed in with loneliness and it ate away at you. it made you act out, become brattier than ever.

The door to the apartment flung open, the familiar sound of heavy boots echoed on the wooden panels.

“hello love… Daddy’s home.”

Butcher had come back early for the first time in weeks and was met with you, sitting on the couch, pouting. He raised an eyebrow in suspicion as you said nothing, which is unusual as you’d be jumping right into his arms- but you sat still with your arms crossed, leering at him.

Billy walked over to you- standing in front of your seated frame with his arms crossed. His face showed a glimmer of concern and frustration as he studied your demeanour. “what’s goin’ on with ya?” he questioned, you shrugged your shoulders.

“i don’t know… oh wait! i know! maybe it’s the fact that you have given me nothing these past 14 days!” you remarked sarcastically, venom cursing through your words.

Billy stared at you- he knew that it had been a long time since you both spent quality time together. there wasn’t a day in the office that went by that he didn’t think about you, needing you like oxygen.

“i know that you’re busy and the Boys are important to you, but what about me? why aren’t i getting attention too?” your face grew hot in frustration.

Billy’s eyes widened and he smirked. “oh lovey…” his nonchalant voice stirred anger within you. you huffed and went to stand up to leave the room, only to be stopped by your boyfriend who had a grip on your forearm. “nup… you’re staying right here.” his tone was a lot more stern this time, turning you to face him.

“i know it’s been hard these few weeks… believe me sweetheart, i wish for nothin’ more than to be here with you instead of doin’ the shit that i’m doin’ with the Boys...” you resisted looking at him, but not before he raised your chin to face him with his index and thumb.

“i just missed you… that’s all. jus’ needed you and you were gone all day and night and im sick of it!” You wanted to protest some more, but before you could speak he places a finger on your lips as to shush you.

“but- don’t give me that bratty attitude. ya know what happens when ya give me that, baby…”he knew which buttons to push, wanting to shift the tension in the air to something a bit more intimate.

“well… what’re you gonna do about it, Daddy?” He saw the cheeky glint in your eye as a small smirk spread across your face, you cocked your head to the side and batted your lashes at him.

in a swift movement, billy had you by the waist, sitting down on the couch and draping you along his lap. your body shivered with anticipation feeling Butchers hands run up your thighs up to your ass, his fingers running agonisingly slow against your skin. “i think a lil’ punishment is in order love, set ya brattiness straight…”

A rough hand smooths over the globes of your short covered buttocks. “10 spanks. and you’re gonna count them down f’me yeah?” you nodded and giggled- shaking your ass for him. a deep groan erupted from Butchers throat as his pulled your shorts off you and felt your warm skin on his palm, eyes fixated on your ass.

his hand struck down on your left ass cheek, sending a ripple through your skin. you gasped loudly, it stung but it felt so good at the same time. “one…” you muttered breathlessly, earning a chuckle from Butcher. Another slap to your rear rang through the apartment living room. “t-two…”

….

“good baby… just a two more f’ me…” Billy’s hand smoothed over your red raw skin. your breathing had become jagged, breathless from his cruel yet exhilarating actions.

You were jolted back to reality as his hand came down sharply on your cheek once more. "N-nine..." Tears welled in your eyes, a mix of desperation for the punishment to end and a conflicting part of you that didn’t want it to stop. Billy smirked before place the last smack on you, hearing you cry out “ten!” slumping over his lap and panting.

“that’s a good girl… such a good girl f’me.” billy gently rubbed your sensitive skin with his hands, leaning down to give soft kisses to your ass cheeks.

“sit up f’ me.” you obeyed and got up from his lap, seeing him get up to the bathroom to find lotion to sooth your sore backside- he returned and gestured you to lay back on his lap to rub the cool gel on your skin. a shiver went up your back you whimpered softly as he took care of you, but your desire for more was still stirring in your stomach.

you sat up carefully to look into butchers eyes after he taken care of the aftermath of your punishment, seeing desire still glinting in his dark pupils, your hands snaked up to his face, bringing him in for a deep kiss.

he licked you bottom lip, wanting to invade your mouth with his tongue which you gladly granted him. he grabbed at you, pulling you back onto his lap straddling him. you pulled away from his lips, looking into his eyes. “i want you Daddy…” you whispered, witnessing a sly smirk appear on his face.

“alright then love… lead the way.” he whispered, placing a quick kiss to your lips. you smirked and got up from his lap, walking through the lounge to the bedroom. Butcher soon followed suit; removing his clothing and scattered it along the floor, leaving a trail behind him.

standing at the foot of the bed, you waited for butcher- not for long as his frame comes into view. his naked body stands in front of you, his hard cock on display.

Billy’s eyes bore into the sight before him, his dark gaze filled with insatiable hunger for you sent shivers down your spine. “get on the bed pet…” he growled, his accent sent tingles through you. “on your hands an’ knees for Daddy.” his order rang through you, immediately obeying him and crawling onto the mattress.

you arched your back as you positioned yourself on all fours, presenting yourself to him like prey. Butcher approached your body, watching it tremble in anticipation. his hands smooth over your still red arse, making sure to be gentle.

Pushing your underwear to the side, Butcher started hungrily at your glistening pussy.

“look at ya… so fuckin’ wet f’me…” his fingers traced along your slit, collecting your slick on his digits, making you moan. using the excess slick from you, he pumps his cock slowly to lubricate it. bringing his cock to your entrance, he drags his tip along your slit, teasing your hole and clit.

“f-fuck Daddy… please, please fuck me…” you begged, looking over your shoulder at him. Billy smirks at you, loving the desperation in your voice. “who am i do deny my baby huh?” his voice is low and drenched in desire as he plunged into you, his thick cock filling you deliciously.

the sound of his hips slapping against your filled the room, mixed with the cries of pleasure coming from your lips. “oh… Daddy you feel so fucking good…” Butcher relished in your wails, his powerful grip on your hips as his quickened his thrusts. your body rocked against his perfectly. "Fuck, you feel so good, pet. " Billy grunted, his voice strained with desire.

your senses were overstimulated by his agressive thrusts and the strong sent of sex that filled the room, creating an intoxicating atmosphere. Your body was stumbling to the edge of your high, ecstasy was just around the corner.

Like a tidal wave, pleasure fell over you and your loud cries filled the room once more- “fuck! Daddy yes!”

your knees shook, nearly bucking beneath yourself as Butcher kept thrusting, relentlessly pounding into your pussy until he too reached his peak. With a deep groan, he spilled his seed into you. his cock pulsing as he filled you deeply.

The grip on your hips lightened, feeling him pull out of you with a sigh. “you’re so fuckin’ good f’Daddy darlin’…” he grinned as you turned around, laying on your back in exhaustion. his eyes raked over your body, in awe of your glowing complexion as your breathing slowed to a steady rhythm.

Butcher crawled over on top of you to shower you with kisses and praises. “that was worth the wait..” you smiled at him, giggling softly. “ good things come to those who wait love…” he whispered to you, placing another kiss upon your lips.

“how’s about… we grab some grub, curl up in ‘ere and watch a movie? your pick babe…” he winked, making you blush. you nodded, smiling up at him. “i love you, Daddy.” you looked at him, batting your lashes at him as he smiled at you.

“i love you too baby…”

#billy butcher #the boys #amazon the boys #billy butcher brainrot go brr #billy butcher x reader #karl urban #the boys tv #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher smut #the boys smut #the boys x reader #the boys imagine #billy butcher x you

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hey-august · 4 months

Text

Your Captain Knows Best

Word count: ~5.2k (hello to the longest one-shot I think I've written) Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N, humiliation, degradation, praise, oral - reader receiving, insertion sex, spit as lube, creampie, cum eating A/N: This comes from this wonderful request! Anon, I hope you like! 🩷 Also, shoutout to @be-not-afraid-gg for getting me on the right track with this fic! ✨

Taglist: @rorywritesjunk

“Spit on it.”

You paused mid-swipe, processing what he said. You must have taken too long to think about the three words, because Buggy pressed his boot against your shoulder. Allowing him to ease you back, you shifted your weight to rest more on your feet than your knees, and looked up at your captain.

“I know you heard me. If you don’t want to do that, then you can always lick my boots clean.”

Fuck. How did he always make such disgusting things sound so good?

Reaching up, you brought Buggy’s foot back down to rest your lap. The grit of dried saltwater, gunpowder, and other debris caught on your fingertips. You weren’t going to lick his boots (not this time, at least), but you would gladly do what your captain asked for.

As a frothy glob settled onto the leather and waited for you to spread it around, a crewmember stopped by to review the plans for tonight’s show. A heat crept up your face. They had to have seen you struggle to collect enough saliva to clean the filthy boot. You focused on the task at hand, smearing the liquid with a rag.

“Right, and cut this act. It’s not happening tonight.”

The other pirate repeated your name to confirm the act. A nudge against your lap signaled that it was your turn to join the conversation.

Looking up, you gave a small smile. An understanding smile.

“The captain knows what’s best.” Another nudge. “Besides, I’m really not that good. I would make everyone else look bad.” Another nudge. “And I don’t want to ruin the crew’s reputation by making a mistake.”

The grin on Buggy’s face grew with each comment you parroted from your training sessions. He had spent countless hours trying to get you to meet your marks and not make obvious fuck-ups, but that attention was a double-edged sword.

Just as his rare praise had your heart pounding, Buggy’s ‘motivational speeches’ during practice sessions made your knees weak. Every pause to keep your balance when your legs threatened to give way, every moment trying to catch your breath, every second lost in your sordid thoughts, everything resulted in errors that you couldn’t hide from a seasoned performer. No matter how subtle. And each blunder was followed with hissed complaints that made your knees shake.

Even when Buggy resorted to other motivational measures, they didn’t have the effect he intended. The burning shame of spending a day with ‘fuck up’ written on the back of your hands, or ‘I make stupid mistakes’ scrawled down your arm was not as strong as the heat that pooled in your body when Buggy held you tight enough to leave bruises while writing those incentives. Even if everyone could see what a failure you were, you felt proud of earning those marks, written by your captain.

Both unfortunately and fortunately for you, Buggy caught on. He noticed the way you were almost too eager to offer your body for his inspiring writings. Dark pupils overtaking the color in your eyes became obvious, despite your attempts to avoid his gaze. The breath you’d hold when he was close and when he touched you, all to hide the sounds that you’d only release when you were alone in bed with a hand between your legs. But an echo of those needy sounds carried through when you’d sigh in relief (or maybe frustration) when he pulled away.

At the end of one particular long pointless practice, Buggy was fed up with your failures. He was irritated with how much time he spent on you, while getting nothing in return. But the moment he snarled out, “attention whore,” your wide-eyed expression and stammers became the bow on a gift that he realized was his to unwrap.

He tugged at the packaging by asking you if that’s what he should write today. If you wanted him to label you as an ‘attention whore’ for everyone to see. Shit, you couldn’t disagree with the truth. You couldn’t lie. Not at this moment. You felt yourself unravel, feeling exposed as you nodded rapidly and rushed to comment about how the captain knows best.

Boosted by the compliment, Buggy also had your costume changed. The stack of folded clothing was handed over at the end of a meeting. What was once more form fitting and flexible was replaced with items that were baggy and woven - ultimately more constricting than what you previously wore. You waited until the crew began to disperse before approaching Buggy.

“Captain, I think I got the wrong costume.”

A quick glance was all he needed to confirm. “No, that’s the right one. Go change.”

“But Captain-”

“Do you think you know better than me?” The sharp question slipped from a tight grin. Buggy tilted his head and waited for an answer.

The question caught the attention of the few pirates in the area, whose conversations shifted in the wake of this discussion. Subtly wasn’t a strength among the crew, but eavesdropping apparently was.

“No, it’s just- It’s not what I’m used to wearing,” you explained nervously.

“Oh, you prefer your old costume?” The smile on Buggy’s face finally reached his eyes with a glint.

You nodded.

“So you like showing off your body.” It wasn’t a question. “See, I think that’s why you keep fucking up. You like the attention. You want people to watch you.”

A familiar heat was coursing through your body, already setting your face alight. Yes, you liked the attention, but from only one particular person. The person who leaned closer to continue his monologue.

Buggy hooked a finger under your chin and continued, “I’m right, aren’t I? Or are you such a greedy attention whore that you need to have your body on display all the time?”

Buggy’s low voice stoked the fire that was consuming you, combining the flames of embarrassment and desire into a raging inferno.

“No, Captain.” The words came out in a whisper as light as ash.

“Remember what you said - Your captain knows what’s best.” Moving his hand from beneath your chin, Buggy cupped your cheek. He winked when you nodded against his touch and broke away with a pat that bordered on a light smack.

You were pulled back from those memories when a second boot dropped into your lap, the heel digging into your leg.

“Spit.”

---

The show went off without any issues. Mostly. You stayed backstage doing simple tasks to help each act progress smoothly. Making sure there was fresh water for the performers, cutting lemons for the demanding divas, and grabbing accessories and props that were forgotten until the last minute. You also stood in the wings, ready to compliment and praise those who came off stage with pissed off expressions, spewing anger about the lack of excitement from the captive audience.

Although you weren’t performing, you wore the new costume. At this point it was more of a daily uniform, due to the disapproving looks Buggy would shoot your way whenever you wore something else. Any substitutions or adjustments were guaranteed to be met with raised eyebrows, sneers, and shakes of his head that would cause his blue hair to dance with disappointment. But the worst was the silent treatment. The moments his eyes would glaze when they drifted past you, when he willfully ignored your presence like a petulant child. But the spark in his eyes made up for all the trade-offs that accompanied your new uniform.

As you ran laps to hit different dressing rooms, the green room, various prop bins, plus the kitchen to refill water pitchers and chop citrus fruits, a heat started building up under your clothes. A big number on set created a lull backstage, which you took as a moment to find an empty corner, lean against a storage barrel, and relax.

You tugged at your woven top to let fresh air waft in, but the humid feeling returned the moment you stopped. In need of something longer lasting, you started to unbutton the shirt. Freeing two of the shell buttons was just enough for better circulation.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to dress.” The remark was flat, weighed down by disappointment.

Shit.

You expected Buggy to be clowning around and schmoozing with the audience, not skulking around backstage like you.

“I just- I needed to cool down,” you explained, pulling at the chest of your shirt as if the demonstration would excuse the faux pas.

Buggy watched, his eyes lingering on your glistening chest. You felt bare, like the two buttons revealed far too much. Reaching up to fix yet another mistake, you were stopped by a pair of disembodied gloved hands. The tight grip rolled your knuckles against each other and large thumbs dug until the meat of your palms.

“By exposing yourself?”

The accusation struck a sweaty nerve. “It’s not a lot! It’s just two buttons,” you spat. “I’m still dressed. It’s not like you can actually see anything.”

“Ahh, so you do want to be seen? You like when people stare at you? I mean, I figured that’s why you’re such a fuck up on stage. I didn’t know stripping was an option, though. We could work that into the next show.”

“No! That’s not-”

“I thought I knew best,” Buggy cut you off with a sing-song voice.

The swell of muffled music seeping into the back areas matched the anxiety surging in your body. Thoughts of taking off your clothes, piece by piece, while Buggy watched, danced in your mind. They traipsed and tumbled to the truth - that you did want to be seen. That you liked it when he stared at you. When Buggy paid attention to you. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“...you do. You’re right, Captain. I wasn’t wearing my costume correctly, I’m sorry.” Hopefully this acknowledgement would distract him from the other accurate observations.

Maybe it was a trick in the dim lighting, but it looked like Buggy’s eyes sparkled at your response.

“Good, I’m right. So you’ll be in the next show. We could end with a flashy number…” Buggy’s hands released yours and started gesturing in the air as he turned away with his grandiose planning.

“Wait!” You lunged forwards to pull back the one-sided agreement. Desperate fingertips grazed against his heavy coat but were unable to take hold.

“Hm, you have a good point,” Buggy said, splitting and spinning his top half to face you. “Maybe we should wait. You might be terrible at this too. I know - we’ll have an audition.”

With that, he twirled and reassembled in time with a crescendo of music that ended with a lion’s roar and strained applause.

“My room, after the show.”

---

You stood in the middle of the captain’s quarters on an island of discarded clothes and covered only in goosebumps. The muffled sounds of a raging afterparty weren’t enough to cover your shallow breathing or the scratch of pen on paper as Buggy wrote down notes about the night’s show. He hardly spared you a look after telling you to get undressed. Although you removed the clothes slowly, your half-assed, untalented striptease went unnoticed. Eventually you stood in the same spot, entirely exposed.

Every little shift you made to adjust to the rolling waves, or to keep your thoughts anchored, went unnoticed. You were able to watch Buggy from the corner of your eye and see how immersed he was in the paperwork.

His bushy brows furrowed as he chewed on the thumb of his glove in between scribbles. Papers were shuffled and unnecessary pages slammed back on the desk. This wasn’t performative - he was actually working. And it was captivating. Both because he was deeply invested in the work, but also because you didn’t know how to interrupt. Or if you even should.

That possibility was taken away from you by a flurry of knocks on the wooden door. Your heart sped up to match the pace of each rap from the unknown visitor. Was the door locked? What if they came in and saw you like this? You turned to stare at Buggy, who still didn’t look at you.

“What?” Buggy groaned loudly, throwing his head to the ceiling and leaning back in his chair.

“Captain, we’re running low on refreshments.” The words slurred their way through the door.

“Okay, and…?” The question trailed off into a pause. A heavy pause that rang in your head.

The doorknob rattled. And turned. It wasn’t fucking locked. He didn’t lock the fucking door. There wasn’t much you could do to improve this predicament. You could hold your clothes to your body and try to preserve some of your dignity. Then again, how much was left at this point? Hiding behind furniture was a terrible option - you weren’t going to play a messed up version of naked hide-and-seek.

Faster than you could consider other options, a gloved hand whizzed forwards and held the door shut. The few centimeters it creaked open were pushed back and met with a drunken grunt.

“I’m busy,” Buggy said loudly and slowly, his voice soaked with annoyance. “Exactly what do you need me for?”

“We’re running out of drinks, cap’n.”

“You already said that.” Buggy rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Can-” The sloshed pirate must have pressed his lips against the edge of the door before continuing. “Can we open more barrels?”

The request slid around the door, entering the room with clarity that sent anxiety and adrenaline surging through your body. Although you knew he was on the other side of the door, knowing someone else was so close sent tingles down the back of your head and spine before reaching around to prick your bare chest. As the conversation continued without you, the turbulent waves gave way to softer swells and your thoughts started to drift. Sure, you were still being ignored and you were still naked, but there was a strange feeling of safety.

The discussion ended with a threat of bathroom duty if anything more than four barrels and a case of wine was opened. The door lock clicked and stillness returned to the room. Your mind came back to your body, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the condition it was in. Of the growing tension and sensitivity. Of the warmth that started to collect down low. Each sensation was amplified when you realized that you were no longer being ignored.

Buggy remained at his desk, head cocked to the side and resting on a gloved hand. The aqua color of his eyes poured over your exposed skin, ice cold and boiling hot at the same time.

“I think we’re just going to strip you of all performance duties. It wasn’t flashy enough,” he finally said.

“You barely even watched! You weren’t paying attention to m-” Shit. The words started flowing before you could even register what order they were in and you slapped your mouth shut too late.

The grin on Buggy’s face nearly put his painted smile to shame. “Say that again. Tell me what you really wanted to say.”

You didn’t want to. You wanted to put your clothes back on, go back to your room, curl up, and pretend none of this happened.

“C’mon, I want to hear you tell your captain that he’s right,” Buggy coaxed through that devastating smile. How could he make those words sound so soft and so dangerous? So enticing?

“I wanted-”

“I can’t hear you.”

Your hand fell from your mouth at the flat interruption

“I wanted you to pay attention to me, Captain.”

He nodded along to your words and into the silence after you finished speaking. You weren’t done.

“I…I like it.”

“Because?” Buggy pushed you to keep going, rather than continuing to drag each word from your pretty lips. Lips that you licked nervously before giving Buggy what he wanted.

“Because I’m an attention whore,” you confessed.

“Again.”

“I’m an attention whore.”

Fuck, yes you were. Everytime he made you say these words, you felt like you were stripping again - removing your sense of self and exposing who you really were inside. Someone who would do near anything in hopes of capturing his eyes and his mind. Anything he asked of you, no matter how ridiculous or humiliating, just to hear your name on his tongue.

“Louder.”

Buggy was a cat who finally caught a scrumptious canary, holding it between his paws. He was enjoying this game. And so were you, but you were ready to take it to the next level and this was your chance.

“I’m your whore, Captain!”

For once, the smarmy look on Buggy’s face flickered. Eyebrows raised slightly in surprise and the corners of his smile fell before transforming into a wolfish grin. Leaning back in his chair, the captain beckoned you closer with a tantalizing curl of two fingers.

As you walked forwards, Buggy reclined and spread his legs into an indecently dominant pose. Another twitch from his finger told you to lower yourself. You were more than glad to kneel before your captain. Trapped between his body heat and your desire, you barely noticed the rough wood floor digging into your bare knees.

A gloved hand floated over and cupped your chin. The leather from his performance gloves was rich and velvety. Softening into his touch, you felt a twinge of worry that you might melt completely. Meeting his watchful gaze, the worry dissipated. Now you wanted nothing more than to dissolve, to fall apart because of him.

The hold was replaced with a nudge against your lips. The silent request quickly changed into a demand as two fingers slid into your barely open mouth. You accepted the intrusion, dropping your jaw to accommodate the thick digits and welcome them into the back of your throat. With your bottom lip resting against the leather on the palm of his hand, Buggy’s fingers began to wiggle and flex, becoming acquainted with your insides and testing your limits.

You were given a moment of respite, just enough time to fill your lungs with fresh air, before Buggy began pumping his hand into your waiting mouth. Your tongue lolled out with the movement, turning into an escape route for the excess drool that couldn’t soak into his glove. Whenever your eyebrows furrowed a little too tightly, you were given the briefest second to catch your breath.

Eventually satisfied with fingerfucking your throat, Buggy recalled his hand. You could both see the discoloration from your spit. Buggy flexed his fingers to admire the handiwork before removing his gloves. Then he unbuckled his belt, the sound of which nearly had you drooling again. You wiped your mouth, just in case.

“Undo my pants. You need to see what you do to me,” Buggy said in a low voice.

The lunge of your greedy hands was stopped by an addendum.

“Ah-ah, no hands.” Buggy licked his painted lips and pursed them into a little kiss that fluttered down to you and settled in your stomach.

Oh, that’s what he meant. Dropping your hands, you leaned forwards and used your nose to push away the hem of his shirt. It wasn’t slippery material, but you struggled to move it enough to reach the hardware on his pants. Buggy took pity (or maybe he was too horny to watch you struggle for long) and pulled up his shirt, exposing a patch of blue hair trailing down to the treasure you were desperate to reach.

Another hand found a resting spot on the back of your head. It followed your movement as you twisted and turned, tilted and tugged, bit and nibbled. Sometimes his hold would work against you, causing you to slip and bump into his erection. Each press against his twitching member gave you motivation to keep trying until you were finally able to unbutton his pants and pull at them enough to undo the zipper.

“Good job,” Buggy groaned, delighted that you made it this far.

He pressed your face against his cock, which was still hidden beneath his underwear. Buggy made sure to rub your lips against the wet spot of precum. It was a little salty and more than delicious. You wanted more. Needed more. You wrapped your lips around his head and sucked on the soggy fabric, surprising Buggy. His fingers tightened in your hair as a strained groan escaped his mouth.

Spurred by the reaction, you licked along the underside of his clothed erection. You moved slowly and let your spit pave the way. Every pulsing throb that pressed against your tongue whetted your appetite. It added to the hunger in your body and soul until you were aching, so painfully full of desire that had no escape. Regretfully, you pulled back. The hand on the back of your head shook slightly at the break in contact.

“What? Are you done?” he asked between breaths.

You shook your head, mesmerized. Buggy’s eyes were hazy. Fogged up and unfocused. His face was sprinkled with a pink blush and beads of sweat. His chest was heaving. And he looked so damn good.

“Use your words, fuck. W-why’d you stop?” Fingers twitched in your hair.

“More… I want more. Please, I need y-!!”

The rushing stream was stalled by a yelp when Buggy’s hands hoisted you on top of his desk. From your new height, you watched your captain lower himself before you, claiming the space between your legs as his. Suddenly, his mouth was on you. His tongue touching you. Fingers digging into your thighs.

Everything left you in that moment. Every thought, the air in your chest, the ability to hold yourself upright, all of it taken away in one fell swoop. Worried about falling backwards and losing sight of Buggy indulging in a feast, you reached for him. Your hands fumbled, unable to find purchase with his hat or that damn bandana. Knocking both out of the way, your fingers found what they needed in his blue hair. A growl rumbled through his throat and ripped through your body at the desperation in your grip.

Buggy came at you with increased ferocity. With a wildness that had you crying out in excitement and fear. That damn mouth of his wasn’t just talented at turning phrases. Fuck. You felt like Buggy would swallow you down in one gulp if he could.

He ate and ate, consuming you like he had been consuming your thoughts for as long as you’ve been on the ship. With each lick, nibble, suck, reverberating groan, and mumbled nothings against your skin, you responded. Your toes curled. Your legs shook. Your fingers tightened and released. His name poured from your lips on repeat, becoming a jumble of syllables in your ears.

You could see stars, they were within reach. Swollen and ready to explode. But before they could shower you in their delicious warmth, they disappeared.

“Is that the best you can do?” The question wasn’t said with lips against your skin. You looked down, bleary eyed and confused. “I’m giving you all of this attention and you’re quieter than a mouse’s fart.”

What the fuck. Your head was swirling, mourning the loss of those sweet stars. His name lingered on your tongue, the full-bodied taste leaving behind an emptiness. What more could he want?

“Are you afraid everyone will hear you? Don’t you want to show me what a good job I’m doing?”

Your eyes fluttered, the stars returning to the edge of your vision. You nodded, promising to do a better job. Promising that you wouldn’t fuck up, like you usually do.

Buggy stood up and rushed to pull down his pants, clanging his belt against the wooden desk in his excitement. His pants and underwear caught around his knees, but he didn’t move to shimmy them lower. Now the focus was on his thick cock, dripping with precum that begged to be spread and smeared.

It looked so heavy. So fucking thick and heavy. Buggy’s smile twitched at your reaction, caught between embarrassment and pride.

“C’mere, show me what a whore you are,” Buggy said, interrupting your assessment. “Show me you can take it.”

Your movement forwards was aided by his bare hands on your ass. Rough calluses on soft skin. Fingers digging into supple flesh. Buggy’s touch was searing hot, etching his hold on your body so that you felt it even when he let go. He lined himself up, stopping just as his body kissed your entrance. A passionate kiss that he continued with his lips against yours.

“Spit on it,” he murmured around your bottom lip, which was trapped between his teeth.

Buggy just barely missed getting headbutted as you pitched forwards, more impatient than eager. You wanted to see his cock again. You wanted to coat it. To feel it. To have it inside. You wanted it so badly. Gifting him a mouthful to use as lubricant, you hoped that he would give you what you craved in return.

And he did. You watched as Buggy pushed inside, slowly. So tantalizingly slow. It seemed impossible that he’d fit, especially if he wasn’t going to shove it in. But it did. Your body stretched to accommodate Buggy’s wonderfully thick cock. You whined and hissed through the intrusion, relishing the pleasure and pain he brought.

“It- it fits,” you gasped.

“Uh-huh, I knew you could do it. Such a good fucking whore for your captain.” Buggy paused with his hips slotted against yours, shoulders rising and falling with each restrained breath he took. “A tight one…m’gonna change that.”

Your eyes fluttered and rolled as he pulled back and began fucking you as promised. You felt entirely at his mercy, caged by his body and stretched to your limit. Your nails dragged across his clothed shoulders, catching on ripples in the fabric, rather than scratching his skin and muscles. Tight muscles. All of Buggy was hard and tight.

“I can take it,” you urged. “Please, just fuck me. Use me.”

The steady tempo turned into a staccato at your words. “That’s it, that’s my good whore,” Buggy said, his voice dripping with pleasure. “Keep that fucking mouth open, I need to hear you take it.”

He slammed into you, little lights exploding behind your eyelids. A little taste of the stars that you knew were coming. Slack jawed, you let your moans fall in time with his thrusts. Moans and cries of delight echoed off of him as you clung loosely to his body. You barely heard Buggy’s demand before his teeth were digging into your shoulder. A loud shout met his demand and raised the level of the sounds that fell from your mouth.

Fingers in your hair tilted your head to the side. “Louder. Don’t tell me you’re afraid they’ll hear you being fucked by your captain,” Buggy growled against your ear. A bite on your earlobe brought another increase in volume and tears to your eyes.

You shook your head and called out his name. Another nip. Another nibble. You cried out louder. Your hands began shaking. You pleaded, crying Buggy’s name on repeat against his shoulder. Arms wrapped around your back and held you closer, pressing you harder against his mean thrusts.

“C’mon, you can do it…”

That was it. That was all you needed. Even if you couldn’t put on a good performance for the circus, you certainly could do this. You could take this. You could take a rough fuck from your captain. You could cry his name to the heavens, to the stars that would explode with you.

Moans stretched into screams that scratched your throat. His name stretched into high-pitched cries that hurt your ears. Incoherent pleas took all your breath and made your lips numb. Yet, with all the cacophony you created, all you could hear was your captain’s sweet, sweet praise.

“Come on my cock like a good whore,” he rasped, clearly struggling to hold back his own orgasm.

“I can-I can do i- I’m cu-” The words were choked out of you. The immense pressure that built up was too much, but it kept growing, taking all the space left in your body. Carrying you away until everything exploded. Until starlight and shimmers filled your vision.

For a moment, you were gone. You hardly existed. Everything wiped clean. And then you were back in your body. Back to feeling all sorts of sinful things. Your body was still struggling against all the pressure that had built up. Trying but failing to squeeze against Buggy’s thick intrusion, which was still ravaging your body. The bright cries that ripped through you were now edging into dry sobs of pleasure.

Your performance was finally rewarded. Buggy’s own sounds were strangled as he came, depositing a hot load of cum deep in your body. He fucked through each pulsing shot, your tension milking him until his balls were drained and you were full. Uncomfortably full.

Buggy’s orgasm ended with a groaning sigh as he nearly collapsed against you. One arm was still holding you close, while the other rested on the desk, propping you both up.

The room felt stuffy, yet empty. Full of everything that just happened, but the sounds of passion were replaced with the dim soundtrack of the ship’s party. After a few minutes reveling in this atmosphere, Buggy peeled himself off your sticky body. He raked a hand through his hair, dragging the loose strands stuck to his forehead back into place. A casual movement that was so… He winced as your body clenched around him, an appreciation for the view.

“So needy,” he said through a crooked smile. A weary but pleased grin.

Arms on your knees kept your legs spread, as Buggy pulled out. Disconnected hands were right there, thumbs on either side of your used hole to keep it open. Gaping. Drooling white cum.

A shiver tore through your body at the feeling of his heavy load sliding down and out. A shiver that was frozen in place when a finger scooped up some and brought it to your lips. A moan traded places with the offering, exiting your mouth as Buggy’s coated finger entered. The mingled taste was wonderful, so fucking tasty. And his cum was such a soothing texture on your aching throat.

---

You woke up feeling almost hungover - not because of alcohol though. Your body throbbed and your head was spinning, but it was pleasant. A weight on your chest kept you pinned to the bed. Buggy was haphazardly draped across your body, his head and arm resting on your torso, and a leg hooked around yours. He was still sound asleep. Closed eyes tracked his dreams and his snoring breath skated across your skin.

Gently, you brought over an arm to push some hair from his face. He looked so beautiful in the moonlight. The snores quieted for a moment. Then they were replaced by a heavy sigh and a tighter embrace. Tucking his arm around you more and curling his leg to hug yours, Buggy snuggled against you and fell back into his deep slumber. As his breaths crinkled back into snores, they carried you back to sleep.

A sweet, comforting sleep, well-earned after a performance that you didn’t fuck up for once. All because your captain knows best.

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut #hey-august buggy fic

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vulturv0lans · 1 year

Note

you asked for neuvillette smut ideas and you shall receive. you've perhaps seen this prompt already and that's because i am ✨unwell✨ about it.

he should have a forked tongue, he would look so good with one🫠🫠🫠 and it should have interesting uses~

OH GOD I JUST READ THAT LAST NIGHT!! let me just say i love this idea so much that i have to post it NOW when i should be asleep 🫠 i’ll add my theme & formatting later <3

i like to think that you find out about his special abilities after a night out, because there’s no way you haven’t discovered this a good few months into a relationship :) like you’d meet him at a party or at a bar, and before you know it you’re pressed up against the wall in some dimly lit back room and this man is all. over. you. in a manner that even the chief justice in him cannot control. if anyone who frequents the opera epiclese finds him like this, they’d probably question that he’d been possessed by a completely different man - so impulsive, so needy, acting out his heart’s every desire.

with the way he’s kissing you so fervently, it doesn’t take long for you to notice something different about his kisses. when he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, your eyes shoot open and you pull back a little, earning a dissatisfied grunt from neuvillette as he chases after you.

“come back here-”

you reject his advances, holding him at an arm’s length and studying his features intently. he mumbles his disapproval and tries to tighten his grip on your waist, but you dodge his kiss, choosing to find out the reason behind the completely new sensation on your lips.

“open your mouth.”

you’re not sure what you sound like at this point. an impatient dentist, maybe, or a person so desperate for something more…primal. you feel like the latter is the more correct answer.

the frown on his face soon turns into a smirk, and it bothers you on a fundamental, cellular level to see him so smug, as if he knows something you don’t-

large hands encircle yours as he brings your arm up to his lips, before licking a sensual, bold stripe up the inner side of your wrists.

and you just about melt right there when you finally notice. the tip of his tongue is forked in a manner so perfect, that you can only compare it to something straight out of the legends and storybooks.

you gasp, the wet patch on your skin now feeling cool in the exposed air and the wet patch elsewhere is now feeling…wetter.

“seeing that you enjoyed it, i can think of several ways to put that to good use, hm?”

and the rest is history. you don’t remember how you got to his apartment, nor how you ended up half naked on his couch, with the chief justice of fontaine between your legs.

you start to question if his tongue has a mind of its own, which soon turns into alarmed curiosity about where exactly he learned these maneuvers. it’s not like he has loads of free time to just experiment, right?

but when your clit is caught between the split ends of his tongue, your brain ceases to be able to function overtime and all you can think about is that you need him to eat you out at least three times a day, if not more.

the tips are nestled so perfectly against your dripping pussy, spreading you open just enough for the occasional dips inside and the expert swirls of your clit. your back arches off the sofa as your legs close around his head, earning a moan that sends vibrations into the deepest parts of your body. you reach down to pull on his hair, the white strands matted against his forehead and your inner thighs from sweat and your juices.

“i’m gonna have to punish you if you keep doing this,” he warns, and for a moment you almost believe he’ll bring down the wrath of the oratrice mecanique on you. but he wastes no time in diving right back to his feast, dipping his tongue into your throbbing hole. your insides feel like they are on fire as he tickles nerve endings you didn’t even know you had, reaching so deep into your pussy that you cum right there and then with a loud cry of his name.

neuvillette doesn’t stop. instead, he only pumps in and out of you faster, the slurping noises now too lewd for even the wildest imaginations, mixed with praise mumbled directly into your pussy. even in your dazed and fucked out state, the only remaining piece of your conscience questions if you’ll ever come down from this high as he eats you out like a man starved, large hands firmly keeping your legs spread for easy access and your juices dripping down his chin. and still he doesn’t stop, not until you’ve cummed two, three, or four more times, until you’ve squirted all over his face, until there’s nothing else in your mind except for him.

you know there’s no getting out of it until he’s satisfied, but for this time you’ll happily oblige.

—

i want him so bad wtf

neuvillette m.list | m.list | rules | inbox

#luna writes ☽#anon asks ☽#genshin impact #genshin smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette #screaming crying rolling on the floor

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aclowntiny · 1 year

Text

Ateez Taking Care of a Sick S/O

This was suggested 5EVERRRR ago by @jacobbaeluvr & I straight- up forgot about this fora bit 🥲 but this is for you babe! & me cuz I’m super sick thanks ✨recurrent illness✨ *to the tune of Vixx’s On & On* I need surgery la la la la la surgery

Hongjoong

♡ *fails to hide disgusted expression at your snot* ‘Hey love, is it alright if I throw some of these tissues on the nightstand out?’

♡ Feels your forehead with his hand, saying you feel warm & making you test your temperature just to be sure. Slides the thermometer in so gently knowing how uncomfortable they can be.

♡ He has this relaxing herbal heat pillow that he warms up for you- it’s good for muscle aches, chills, or even just plain aromatherapy. You’re skeptical but he hands it to you & you’re immediately in heaven!

♡ Pulls you in close to his chest & takes a nap with you 🥺 even when you wake up his arms will be around you, one protectively keeping your head near his heart!

♡ Knows exactly how much time has passed between medicine doses & is getting you to take it on time like clockwork, even setting an alarm for it on his phone!

Seonghwa

♡ Makes 👏🏻 you 👏🏻 soup 👏🏻 even if you don’t really feel up to having a whole bunch he’ll insist on spoon-feeding you a little bit because the warmth will clear your sinuses & make you feel better he promises 🥺

♡ If you fall asleep you’ll wake up with a new box of tissues magically replacing your empty one & a fresh water bottle there in hopes you’ll stay hydrated. Seonghwa likes feeling like a magical little healing fairy but his heart goes 💗 when you thank him

♡ Traces shapes on your back as you lay together, making sure you’re ok when your warm skin shivers under his touch & smiling when you tell him not to stop.

♡ Flies some of his lego ships around the room for you when you say you’re bored. You’re like I meant the tv right there but this is actually so much better. He was so into making the whoosh noises for you ok?

♡ Undresses you but not in a weird way, just getting you out of sweaty clothes & into clean pajamas or a robe, pulling you into it & kissing your shoulder, then your lips 🩷

Yunho

♡ Holds your hand in both of his & tells you he’ll do as much as he can for you, so please just ask ok?

♡ The type to insist you do not have enough blankets, take one more actually blankets cure everything

♡ Proceeds to then roll himself up into a matching blanket burrito until you two are wiggling around like ridiculous blanket worms & you know what? It cheers you up at least & gives you your first laugh in 2 days, so success in Yunho’s mind 😌

♡ TBH tells you so many jokes & does little performances to distract you. Blanket cape superman impression. Cute version of an Ateez choreography. Dramatic ritual dance to ‘scare the germs away’. ‘Get out of my (y/n)!!! *hand wave*’

♡ Lifts you up & carries you bridal style when it’s time for bed, laying you down so gently it’s like falling on clouds ☁️

Yeosang

♡ Smooths back your forehead to give you kisses even if you’re kinda sweaty 🩷

♡ Will 100% offer to read you a story, this man is far too precious 😭 if there’s a royalty figure in the story especially a beautiful one he’ll change their name to yours!!!

♡ ‘Now will you believe me when I say you need to bring a coat when we go out?’ ‘But I like yours 🥺’ ‘Ok, then I’ll make sure I have it with me.’ On the inside he was thrilled because free excuse to give you his clothes heck yeahhhh

♡ Wriggles in under the fuzzy electric blanket the moment he’s done spreading it over you, making you laugh with his cute satisfied smile & nod.

♡ ‘Hiyah!’ (That’s the sound of Yeosang fluffing your pillow with little chops until it’s nice & poofy for your heard again)

San

♡ Gives you the biggest 🥺 eyes the moment he sees you sprawled out feeling uncomfortable, wishing he could take your pain from you 🥺

♡ Big spoons you immediately & tells you he won’t leave you until you’re feeling better! You can feel him nuzzle into you like he can’t get close enough, lending you his warmth.

♡ Softly sings a love song while you guys cuddle to remind you that no matter what state you’re in he will always love you 🥰

♡ San brings over a whole bag of supplies without having to ask, so he’s already armed with decongestants, tissues, painkillers, vapor chest rub, a container of a soup you like, water, electrolytes & vitamin C, & a plushie at the store he saw & thought might cheer you up when he was buying all that!

♡ Puts the chest rub on you so softly, pausing to let you adjust to the cold & holding your half-raised head steady while he does it.

Mingi

♡ ‘What do you have though? How bad is it? Do you need the doctor? I’ll go get the doctor.’ ‘Mingi no it’s just a bad cold-’

♡ Sits at the side of the bed holding your hands so dramatically as if you were in an irl medical drama until you just pat the half of the bed next to you & have him lay down to watch some tv

♡ Absolute KING though of making you your tea exactly how you want to take it. Insists on the peppermint blend though because duh it’s good for congestion, inflammation, nasuea, & like everything you could possibly be feeling 💁🏻‍♀️

♡ You guys nap together & the moment you wake up he asks how you feel, if it’s any better. When you say yes, a little, he takes your hands in his & claps them, giving a little ‘yaaaay!’

♡ Acts, in fact, like your healing is a personal achievement. Hypes you up like ‘wow, this disease has nothing on you. Look at you go, beating it like a pro. It’s so amazing how well you’re fighting this off’ while you’re just sitting there like Mingi this is not voluntary. He won’t hear of it, though, nope. Too busy gushing over your amazing recovery skills because you’re the best at everything, actually, & you know what maybe he helped too 😎 you guys are both the best.

Wooyoung

♡ OML you are not going ANYWHEREEEE

♡ If you so much as stand up behind Wooyoung’s back he’ll be like ‘Ah ah ah no whatever it is I can get it’. ‘Wooyoung I’m going to the restroom’ He deflates a little. ‘Ah, I see. …oh alright fine’

♡ Part of the not moving scheme is so he can throw himself onto the bed next to your blanket pile self & throw a leg over you & get in all the cuddles his heart desires >:)

♡ ‘What do you want?’ ‘Maybe just some decongestants? Thank you so much!’ Wooyoung returns, dropping like 5 pill boxes & 2 bags at your feet proudly. ‘What is all this?’ ‘I wasn’t sure what kind you wanted so I bought them all. Also got some lozenges~’

♡ Squishes your face & tells you how cute you are even when you’re sick. Just when you think the doting is up is when he starts kissing all over your cheeks instead of squishing them 😘

Jongho

♡ Probably the only one to actually sit down by you on the bed & just ask what you need lmao

♡ Intense battle between ‘nO I CAN DO IT YOU NEED REST’ & ‘yOU’RE SICK & I LOVE YOU STAY STILL’ but you always lose because you’re going up against Choi Jongho & besides hearing him say I love you pretty much always gets him his way

♡ Lays next to you & chats, watches tv, even just goes on his phone & lets you play with his other hand so you never feel alone 🥺 it’s quiet time for him to just make himself available however you personally are comfortable!

♡ If you feel sore anywhere, he’ll offer to massage it in a heartbeat if he can! Even if you’re not specifically sore he’ll do it because you aren’t feeling good, the least he can do is pamper you a little 👸🏻

♡ 50-50 on if he teases you or gets shy, but it’s a 100% chance he will sing you a lullaby if you claim any struggle sleeping & ask for a song!

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #requested #jacobbaeluvr #fluff #illness

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rafeyscurtainbangs · 15 days

Text

Star Lab - Rafe Cameron Blurb

+18 Minor DNI

Frat!Rafe x Yearning!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 Hand job, oral (male receiving), Soft!Rafe, Frat!Rafe, hair pulling, public oral (briefly)

📖 based off an ask: masturbating frat Rafe in class 🫦

✨ Rafe lets out a dark chuckle, tossing his head back on the reclined seat. “You’re a naughty little thing. Aren’t you, baby girl? This is just foreplay. Yeah? You gonna let me hit it tonight?” ✨

Reader’s POV:

The lights fall low, darkness closing in around you as a wash of stars light up the sky. You relax in your chair, popping in an AirPod, shuffling your Spotify, and waiting for the lecture to begin. It’s quiet and peaceful, just a hush of conversation humming around you… Until it’s not. You hear his laugh, the sleepy drawl of his voice, shooting the shit with his frat brothers as they file into the lecture hall.

“I’m gonna sit by y/n. A’ight?” He whispers to his friend, but his voice carries as usual. The sound of your name leaving his lips still gives you butterflies. He doesn’t give two shits about college, yet somehow, he seems to do well. One of those people who succeeds with minimal effort; all effort he pays during class is directed toward you.

“Hi, beautiful,” he rasps. You look up from your seat, watching Rafe as he looks down at you. He looks good, he always does, sporting a black t-shirt and matching backward hat. His grey sweats hang low on his hips, tucked into high-top Nike sneakers.

“Hi, Rafe,” you greet him with a smile as you lean into your armrest, waiting for him to sit.

“How was your day, princess?” The boy croons as he falls into the seat, instantly spreading his thighs wide.

“Great. Just class all day. And you?” You ask. Even with the dim lighting, you can see him watching your lips, studying your pretty features.

“Good as always. You coming by tonight?”

“Anything But Clothes party?”

“Mhmm…” He smirks. “I mean, you look pretty good right now. Hate to see you take this off,” he mumbles as he rubs the hem of your dress between his rough fingers. “What are you gonna wear?”

“Wrapping paper,” you giggle, watching a smile creep across his lips.

“Makes sense,” he cheeses, adjusting his hat on his head.

“How so?”

“You gonna make me get all mushy? I can do that for you.”

“Mhmm…” You hum as you lean in a little closer.

“A’ight,” he chuckles. “‘Cause whoever is gonna be lucky enough to tear it off your body will get a gift… you, obviously,” Rafe rasps, his voice trailing away slightly at the end. His cockiness fleets momentarily as you pull some sweetness out of him. “I’m sure that pussy’s a fuckin’ gift.” You let out a flirty little gasp at his naughty words. “M’I wrong?” You can feel yourself blushing. Luckily, the room is dark. You bite your lip, holding back an all-too-wide smile. “I’m not. I know it.” He mumbles. Heat radiates from your neck as his lips meet your skin for the first time. Making you bite back a needy whine.

“Rafe…” You whisper. “We’re in class.”

“You’re very observant, Y/n,” Rafe teases. “We’re also in the back. This okay? I can stop if you’d like-”

“No,” you answer fast. Rafe’s large hand grips your bare thigh, tracing higher. You feel a throbbing between your thighs, your needy pussy positively soaked for Rafe already. “Wait.”

“Shit. Sorry,” he puffs.

“You first. Then me. Just in case we get caught.”

“What the fuck?” Rafe protests through a soft chuckle as he buries his face on your neck, kissing your smooth skin again.

“Please… I’m just nervous. I’m not gonna be able to cum if I’m in my head,” you whisper.

“Well, we can’t have that,” he mumbles before biting down on your skin. “You gonna stroke my cock, baby? What if we make a mess?” He asks as his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, leading you to the answer he wants.

“I’ll swallow it.”

Rafe lets out a dark chuckle, tossing his head back on the reclined seat. “You’re a naughty little thing. Aren’t you, baby girl? This is just foreplay. Yeah? You gonna let me hit it tonight?”

“Maybe…”

“Maybe?” He flirts.

“Maybe,” you whisper as you walk your fingers over, tracing up the print of his cock, stamped on the cozy cotton material.

“Fuck, baby. A’ight,” he rasps. He smirks as your fingers meet the waistband, slipping under the elastic. You run your finger along it, teasing him, feeling his ab muscles flex below your touch.

Your hand plunges in, landing on top of his thick cock, making your eyes expand. Fuck he’s huge… You turn your head in his direction, catching a smirk. Rafe is fully aware of his size; absolutely loving your reaction.

You lean in, Rafe, meeting you in the middle. “Still a maybe, princess?” He smiles against your lips as you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock flipping it up.

“I might let you take me here, Cameron.”

“Well, Shit,” he groans. You draw his sweatpants down just enough to wet him with some spit, catching it with your fist as you start to stroke as you hide your sin under the cotton again. Rafe eyes roll back as he relaxes in his seat again, looking up at the star-sprinkled sky. Moving your hands counterclockwise, you twist and turn; his cock is firm and warm. He takes hold of your thigh. A breathy, low moan tumbles from his lips.

“Fuck,” he sighs as he leans closer, turning his body to get a little more contact. His hand rests on your chest, squeezing your breast, slipping into the top of your dress to graze your nipple, circling it with his ringed finger. “Can’t wait to see these tits, y/n. You wet, princess? Bet you’re so fuckin’ wet f’me.”

“M’so wet. Feels good?” You breathe.

“So fucking good,” he hums, bringing his hands up to your cheek to guide you to his lips. Rafe starts to thrust into your hand a little as your kiss deepens, his breathing quickening with each passing second. “You gonna cum for me?” You mumble against his lips. Your words elicit a moan, rumbling against your mouth as you start to feel him quake in your hand.

“I’m right there…” Rafe grabs his sweatpants with one hand, his other drifting in your hair. Tugging them down enough for his cock to swing out. His grip tightens on your strands, pressing your head between his thighs. “Oh, fuckk-” You wrap your lips around his cock, creating a suction that has him spurting instantly. He digs his heel into the floor, choking back a moan as his warm cum hits the back of your throat in a heavy load. You swallow it all, feeling his grip loosen; his cock pulsing on your tongue.

Rafe lifts you off his dick, throwing his head back as he lets out a satisfied sigh. “Goddamn.”

“Yeah?”

“Your turn.”

#rafeyscurtainbangs library 📚#frat bro rafe #frat rafe #frat!rafe #rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe x fem!reader #rafe x reader

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artificialbreezy · 8 months

Note

Please please please please more dom! Noah. You seem to know bdsm well from looking at old posts on your blog and I just love your take on everything

girl i had too much fun with this. it’s kinda. a long one. buckle up

nsfw under the cut

• “You’re so pretty, baby. Can’t believe you’re mine.”

• “I know you can’t reach that; why not ask for help little one?”

• Lots of hugs from behind

• Idk man i just feel like he’d be needy but not like needy in a bad way. Needy as like, he wants to be near you all the time (except when the workaholic parts of him are front and center)

• I don’t think he’d would like neglect you when he’s working on an album but i definitely see him being a little distant

• Like he wouldn’t plan dates as often or his calls would be later than usual

• but when you were at his house he’d have you with him while he's working. Showing you what he's working on.

• He gets in his head sometimes, he needs a reminder from his partner that he’s okay.

• That he’s loved and he’s never a bother to you

• He is 100% a dom

• Sometimes a mean dom, sometimes a soft dom. I feel it really depends on the day

• Like did he wake up annoyed with the world? Mean dom Noah is heeerrreee

• Did he wake up and look over at his little baby and just stare in awe? Soft dom day.

• Let's talk about soft dom Noah first

• i definitely think daddy and sir are the most common names he chooses to go by

• I mean cmon listen to his lyrics, he's got that whole hierarchy thing going on.

• size kink = daddy kink

• they go hand in hand for noah

• he’d put his hand on your stomach and say “can feel myself in your tummy baby. taking my cock so well”

• the first time you call him daddy is when he’s just being relentless, you have tears in your eyes and you don’t have any thoughts just “daddy please”

• man would lose it internally. he didn’t know he’d like that, that much. but here he is.

• “what was that baby? say it again for me yeah? can you do that? can you say it again for daddy?”

• now punishments for dom noah? they range from writing lines to harsh spanks to overstimulation

• his favorite is overstimulation bc seeing you cry from all the pleasure he’s giving you really gets him going

• “awe baby cmon, you know daddy only gives good girls what they want. beg for it.”

• if he’s gonna spank you, he’s gonna do it when you’re least expecting it. he doesn’t want to give you time to prepare. he wants your raw emotions right then and there

• he’ll be sitting on the couch all spread out and you’ll walk by and he’ll just grab you and pull you over his lap

• “ya know why i’m doing this right baby?”

• if you DONT respond he’d send a warning hit that causes a big jolt

• “that’s a warning, now answer me.”

• when you miss count he stops and sends a lil warning smack to your pussy. “start over angel, you know the rules. where’d my good girl go?”

• now let’s get into the soft dom every day Noah that’s outside of the bedroom

• big ✨daddy✨vibes

• he loves watching you color while he plays his game.

• warms his heart to see you on his bed with a stuffed animal next to you and a big ole coloring book in front of you

• really warms his heart to see your tongue hanging out of your mouth a lil bc you’re so focused on your picture

• whenever your done with it, he hangs it up on his wall bc “awe baby look at this! you’re a natural artist!”

• he loves taking you on little picnic dates.

• he’ll get you dressed in your cute little dresses and pack your favorite lunch and hold your hand the whole way there and then take you to the park afterwards bc he knows you love the swings

• he 100% fills up your cups

• need more soda? absolutely not “daddy said you need water now angel. don’t argue”

• and you’d pout a lil bit at the end of the day you know he just wants what’s best for you and your health

• he LOOOOVES when you drag out his name when you want something

• “daaaaaddddyyyyy”

• he’d just smile down at you “what do you need little one? how can i help you?”

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian #noahsebastian #bad omens headcanons #bad omens fic #bad omens smut

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3rachaslut · 6 months

Note

hiii, so im a new follower but i LOVE your work so much its just *chefs kiss* 😣❤️

so im not sure if youve already done this or not, i haven’t gone that deep into a rabbit hole in your page yet lol anyways

i was wondering how you would think skz ot8 would react to reader having a belly piercing/a back tattoo?

really really love what you do ✨🤍🎀 MWAH !!!

hello lovely anon!!! it’s so nice to meet you🫂 stay a while i hope you enjoy the rest of my work ahh TYSM🥹🤍

okay let’s get it!!

SKZ X GENDER NEUTRAL READER🖤

mainly fluff, some are kinda suggestive.

bangchan

you drop your bags in the hall as you slump through the doorway and into you and your boyfriends shared apartment.

“hi baby” chan shouts from the kitchen. kicking your shoes off, you see him appear in your peripheral vision and soon you feel his hands wrapping round you. “long day?” he says as you nuzzle into his should and nodding your head.

“tired” you mumble into his t-shirt, instantly feeling more relaxed at the familiar smell of his purfume. “how about i give you a massage baby, hm?” a smile spread across his face as he admired your cuteness in your tired state. “yeah? okay. go get undressed and i’ll be there in a second”

you pretty much drop onto the bed just after you strip down and lay on your front, enjoying the feeling of the soft mattress underneath you. you hum in contentment.

“okay baby so i’ve got the oi-“ chan cuts himself off and you turn your head in confusion. “um.. when did you get that?” he says with a smirk on his face, clearly loving the new piece on you.

“a few weeks ago” you say, still looking back at him with a smug smile on your face.

“and i haven’t seen it?!” he exclaims, practically running to your bed and jumping over the top of you to admire your new decoration.

“you like it?”, the answer already apparent with the look on chans face. you chuckle and turn your head again to rest on your arm.

“i absolutely love it! darling it’s so beautiful”….

lee know

you feel your body shiver as you pull your shirt over your head and to the floor, your body involuntarily shaking like a leaf at cold air in the room. it had been a long night out with the members and you couldnt wait to get into your pjs.

“oh my- baby- ” you hear lee know say from behind you. it was a rarity that lee know was ever at a loss for words but you knew that your new tat you didn’t tell him about was a good contender at making it a possibility. you were right.

“yesss?” you tease, turning around to face him and walk towards the edge of the bed where he was sat, his jaw practically hitting the ground. you could see his approval of your decision by the tent that was forming in his pants.

“as absolutely stunning as you are, turn around again”. and you do, feeling particularly smug right now. “wow” he says and you hear him walking towards you. suddenly you feel his hand tracing along your back and you quickly struggle to keep your composure, your breathe hitching in your throat.

“y- you like it?” you mewl through jagged breaths at the feel of his hands roaming your back causing goosebumps to form all over your naked body.

“a lot. however.. i may have to punish you for not asking for permission before you got it..” lee know says and the words linger in the air between you two. you knew by the shift in the atmosphere just what was about to happen and a smile tugged at your lips. it was gonna be a long, pleasurable night and you knew by the end of it, your tattoo may not be the only new marking on your back….

changbin

“are you 100% sure you wanna do this y/n? i really don’t mind if you’re not, i’m more than happy just kissing you, you know that right?” changbin said with a panicked look on his face. you had finally told him that you were ready to have sex with him but since it was your first time, he wanted to make sure you were definitely ready.

“yes binnie, i am sure!” you said, a smile plastered all over your face which was soon reciprocated by your boyfriend. changbin raises his pinky to your chest and only when you wrapped yours around his did he take that as true confirmation. no matter how old he may be, a pinky promise was always sacred.

“okay” he whispers into your ear, working his way down, planting kisses down your neck to get you ready. your eyes flutter shut as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as his hands make their way down your waist and underneath your oversized t-shirt. you open your eyes at the pause of his hands over you and you see his face is covered in surprise.

“what’s wrong?”. the words rush out of your mouth in panic but you begin to see the smirk tugging at the side of his mouth and your anxiety quickly dismisses itself.

“i didn’t know you had your beautiful tummy pierced?” he says excitedly. he lifts your t-shirt, eager to see it in person. he looks at your tummy and then back at you with such a huge smile on his face. he clearly approves. “wanna see more of you babe, like right now!”….

hyunjin

“my love?” hyunjin speaks from across the bed as you dangled your legs over the other side, himself propped upwards against the headboard and staring at you from behind.

“yes baby?” you reply. “when did you get such a beautiful tattoo?” he asks and you can hear the smile on his face through his words. you hear the bed squeak as he leans closer and the whispers of “aahs” from behind you.

“only a few days ago, it’s still quite sensitive” you say. “i won’t touch is then but wow it’s beautiful. beautiful tattoo for my beautiful baby” you blush at his words as you lean towards your console, flicking the tv on in the process. friday nights were spent by you and hyunjin both having ‘me time’, however you couldn’t ever bring yourself to leave each others sides. he drew and you played video games.

the rustling of pencil on paper was one of the most comforting noises for you as you had soon connected the noise to your boyfriend, hyune. after about half an hour, you felt the bed dip behind you and a tap on your shoulder. you turn your head in attention.

“what do you think love?” hyunjin whispered into your ear as he handed you a drawing of your new back tattoo. your mouth falls open and your eyebrows ruffle in utter disbelief at how beautiful the picture was and how much love you could tell was put into it.

“hyunnie it’s beautiful!” you say, your voice wobbly as you feel tears start to prick at your eyes.

“not as beautiful as you darling”…

han jisung

“turn over babe, let sungie spoon you” han says as he sniggers down your ear at the cringe that just came out of his own mouth.

“oh ji” you exasperate and let out a huffed laugh, rolling your eyes and turning around so your back is resting against hans also bare chest.

“oh- y/nah!!” he gasps and you jump slightly at the sudden loudness of his words. “pretty pretty pretty!” he says as he adores your new tat. “it’s so beautiful!” he says wrapping his free arm around you and swaying you both back and forth in your bed.

“you like it then ji?” you chuckle as he begins to trace the outlines of the black ink in your skin, the strokes on your back sending shivers all up you but han didn’t seem to notice. you hum in relaxation.

“i love it so much” he whispers down your ear as he continued to trace the shapes of your tattoo over and over again only ever stopping to plant kisses on the decorated area.

“not as much as i love you though”. he speaks softly down your ear as to not disturb your relaxed state.

“oh- are you sleepy?” he mutters and you moan as confirmation.

“okay, goodnight angel”

felix

“hey lixxxx” you sing, nearly running towards your boyfriend just as you got through the door. you practically throw yourself into his arms and he laughs contently.

“aww hi baby, what’s got you all smiley?” felix says, smiling as he runs his hand through your hair and planting a kiss on your head. “welll you know that thing i’ve been wanting to do for weeks now..” you say swaying side to side in his arms looking up at him. “yes- oh my god you did it!” he says just as excited for you as you are.

“yes! and look how pretty it is” you exclaim, eagerly lifting your t-shirt up to show him your new tummy piercing. he leans down to adore it too.

“your tummy was so beautiful before but nowww.. wow! , it’s so sparkly y/n!” he says with a huge smile on his face in reaction to your elation. “you’re so adorable i wanna just squish you” felix said as he lifted you off your feet and towards the couch. he gently plants you down underneath him and begins trailing kisses down your chest and towards your stomach. you hum as he kisses all over your tummy, careful not to catch the jewellery.

“my darling, you are getting more and more irresistible by the day”…

seungmin

“hey baby” seungmin greets, accompanied by an evening kiss. “you look gorgeous, have you been out? it was meant to be your rest day today” he says, plopping himself next to you on the sofa, the smell of his perfume lingering around you as he rests his head on your shoulder.

“maybeeee..” you say teasingly, leaning into him. “oh yeah?” his ears perking up in interest. “and where did you go?” he asks attentively.

“to get a new tattoo” you smile and the look of shock on his face is so comical you can’t help but huff out a laugh. “really?! oh my god let me see” he begs, his legs jittering in excitement. you turn your back to him and take your shirt off, discarding it on the sofa next to you.

“oh my- it’s beautiful” seungmin gasps in awe. “i love it!” you turn around to look at him. “no, i’m not done looking” he states, and you chuckle. turning your back to him once again, you feel his fingertips tracing the currently sealed skin and the pressure feels so relieving on the sensitive area you let out a sigh at the feeling.

“what do you think?” you ask, already knowing the answer. “you look so hot is what i think” seungmin replies. “but as much as i love it baby, i must ask, how long is it now until we can have sex?” seungmin says, his lip pouting and you giggle in response.

“you know minnie.. there are ways to have sex that won’t hurt my new tat?” you say insinuatingly, raising your eyebrows.

“go to the bedroom, right now”…

jeongin

“innie are you showering?” you yell from outside the bathroom door. “yes baby” he replies, shouting through the water pouring and the music blaring in the bathroom. you open the door and let yourself in, the misty air instantly making you warm. peeping your head around the shower curtain, you were greeted by his beautiful naked form. you will never get tired of adoring his body. “mind if i join you?” you ask, however already knowing the answer.

he responds with a smile and reaches his hand out for you to balance on as you climb into the bath tub. exactly as you did with him, he stares at your naked body up and down, admiring you. however, a gasp leaves his mouth as his eyes rest on your belly button. he looks up at you with a smile.

“i really fucking like that” he smirks, tilting his head back, rinsing the bubbles out of his hair. you move closer to him and run your hands up his waist. “like what innie?” you ask with faux confusion.

he slowly looks back down at you with narrow eyes, lifting your chin up to face him with his thumb and forefinger. “you know exactly what it is that i like” he says smugly, leaning in to kiss your parted lips. suddenly, his hands are roaming your stomach and you nearly melt into his touch. you can only whimper in response and you can feel him smile into the kiss.

“you drive me so fucking crazy y/n”…

a/n: sorry some of them are lowkey trash i really tried my best to make the scenarios different from each other but i hope i did anons request justice🤍

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ameenvie · 11 months

Text

Over The Phone - jamie tartt x fem!reader

masterlist | ao3 | ko-fi | fic recs

Word count: 1.5k Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!reader Warnings: nsfw, smut, minors DNI!, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirrrty talk Tags: smut Prompt/Summary: Kinktober day 6 - Phone sex. Speaks for itself, Jamie is at an away game without you and you miss him dearly A/N: Not much for this one, just want to thank the amazing people who beta-read this for me: @angelbarnes-rogers & @confessionsofatotaldramaslut!! ❤✨ I just hope you'll enjoy this! 🙏❤❤

Your phone started buzzing on the bed next to you, it lit up and you saw your boyfriend’s name on the screen alongside a funny photo of the two of you. It was quite late already, so you didn’t expect him to call but you quickly answered.

“I thought you were asleep already” you said in a low, sleepy voice.

“Nah, we were watching a film. No phones allowed” Jamie said on the other side of the line, his voice just as tired as yours.

Richmond had an away game at the weekend, and unfortunately this time you couldn’t travel to watch him play. It might’ve been silly, but you really missed him even though he was only gone for a day or two at times like these.

“That sounds fun” you replied and closed your book that you were reading, setting it on the bedside table. “Did Ted make you cry again?” you chuckled, and Jamie scoffed.

“I never cry on films.”

“Yeah, sure” you teased. “Don’t you have a curfew? It’s getting quite late.”

“Just wanted to hear your voice before going to bed” he paused before continuing. “I miss you.” His admission didn’t surprise you, but it made your heart swell and a warm feeling of love spread through your body. His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket on a winter evening.

“I miss you too, Jamie.” You shuffled under the covers, and he probably heard the sound of the fabric ruffling.

“You in bed?” he asked, and you swore his voice got a bit deeper than it was just mere seconds ago.

“Yeah. I wish you were here.”

“Me too, love” he paused for a second before he spoke again. “But don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you when I get home.” His voice was cocky, and you heard the smile in his voice.

“Yeah?” you chuckled. “Any particular ideas?” You knew exactly what he was alluding to. You already felt heat rise in your body and a tingling sensation settling in your stomach.

“You know it” he teased.

“Maybe, but...” you hesitated.

“Yes, angel?”

“I want you to tell me” you whispered and let out a shaky breath. Usually, you didn’t mind asking for what you want, hell, even begging – but you felt self-conscious now all of a sudden. Jamie let out a low hum on the other end of the line before he spoke again.

“You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you if I was there, hmm?”

“Fuck, Jamie” you breathed, squeezing your eyes shut. You put the call on speakers and set the phone onto the pillow next to you.

“Can’t last one day without me.”

You shuffled under the covers to get out of your underwear. Your breathing was already heavy, and he didn’t even begin.

“Don’t touch yourself yet. Want to take my time with you” he mused, and his voice was dripping with lust. You could basically see him in front of you – his hair loose and messy, lying on his hotel bed in a t-shirt and his boxers alone. It turned you on even more, the need to touch him stronger with every second.

“’tis what you think about all day when I’m away? How I’m going to fill you up when I get home?” his words were filthy, but you heard in his voice that he was smiling. The image of it burned into your mind and filled every small segment of it completely. “I bet it is.” You gripped the sheets next to your body as you listened to him, dying to feel some friction between your legs. You loved that filthy mouth of his and you couldn't deny it as moans and whimpers escaped your lips.

“It is” you whined, and he let out a low chuckle.

“Are you naked?”

“N-no” you stuttered. “In a top.”

“Be a good girl and take them off for me, hmm?” You heard fabric ruffling on the other side of the line before you took the hem of your spaghetti-strap top and pulled it over your head, the cold air of the room felt alien for a second, hardening your nipples. You squeezed your eyes shut as frustration began to rise in your body together with your neediness. You wanted to be touched so bad, even if it was only by your own hands. But you didn’t even think about cheating, you waited for Jamie’s next orders.

“Fucking hell, love if I was there, I’d make you feel so good, yeah? Kiss your pretty tits first, just how you like-“ he groaned, and he had to pause for a second. You figured forming sentences was just as hard for him as it was for you in this lustful haze. All you could think about was how much you wanted him. “Touch them” he commanded, and you obliged, your hand sneaking up to your breast as you squeezed it gently at first, but then a bit harder. You let out a shaky breath before your finger moved to slowly play with your nipple, circling and pinching it gently. You moaned loudly before you heard Jamie’s voice again.

“I want you to put your finger into your pretty little mouth and make it as wet as you can ‘aight love?” Flames were eating away at your body as heat rose to your ears before you put your index finger into your mouth and licked on it slowly. A brief thought of Jamie’s length in your mouth invaded your thoughts and you let out a loud moan.

“Touch yourself, babe. Like I would – I’d take my time with you, teasing that gorgeous pussy of yours” he mused, and you thought you heard him shuffle on the other side of the line, touching himself as well. You swiped your wet finger against your sensitive clit and you gasped, your back arching away from the bed. You started to rub slow circles around the sensitive bud and you rolled your hips against your palm. All Jamie could hear was your heavy breathing as he slowly palmed himself.

“Jamie” you whimpered his name as you continued your ministrations before you pushed a finger inside your dripping cunt. His name fell from your lips like a prayer.

“Feels good, hmm?”

“Not as good as yours” you admitted bashfully. “Can I- can I add another one, please?” Jamie groaned and cursed under his breath.

“Fuck, how could I say no to that?” he chuckled dryly, and you pushed another finger inside yourself. The stretch felt amazing but you knew it was nothing compared to Jamie being inside of you. You moved them in and out, your walls hugged them perfectly as you picked up your pace.

“Jamie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Are you touching yourself?” you asked between breaths as your other hand find its way to your clit, continuing where you left off.

“Fuck, babe” he moaned into the phone before he continued. “Yes I am.” You rolled your hips a bit stronger against your fingers and you felt your arousal soak them. “You like that, hmm?”

“Yes” you gasped.

“You like how I’m doing that while thinking of you?”

“What… Are you thinking about?” You bit your lip.

“About your perfect lil pussy, how I’d like to taste it. Fuck, angel I’d eat you out all night long, making you come ‘til you can’t talk.” You moaned out loud, Jamie’s words filling your thoughts, images of his head between your legs as he smiles at you devilishly as you can’t keep your composure. His name is all you can muster up, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie. You felt your nerves igniting and tension build in your every muscle, like a bow that’s ready to snap. You tightened the movements of your finger on your clit.

“And then I’d fuck you so good. I’ll make you feel so good, love.” His breathing started to become erratic and he found it harder and harder to keep going as his own high creeped up in him. He moaned between the words; you knew they turned him on just as much as they turned you on. “Fill your tight little cunt perfectly. You’d be so good for me, wouldn’t you babe?” Your fingers curled inside you to reach your sweet spot as his filthy words pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“Jamie, I’m so-“ you gasped. “So close.” He moaned and picked up his pace as well.

“Come for me” he whispered. “With me.” His words were stuttering. Your breathing became more and more erratic by the second. “Fuck, love, I can’t wait to feel you around me, so good. I love you so fucking much.”

You felt your walls tighten around your fingers as the coil inside your body snapped as your orgasm washed over you. You fucked yourself through your high, your walls fluttering around your fingers as you came down. You still heard Jamie’s strained moans for a second before he reached his own release as well, cursing and moaning under his breath.

“You alright?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Fantastic” he answered. “Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“It’s gonna be worth the wait I promise.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt ff #jamie tartt x fem!reader #jamie tartt smut #Smut

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