#N�� Sensae

[somaliapearls]

a raging hurricane

(part 2 of “a quiet storm”)

Top Gun masterlist

part 1

✈️ jake “hangman” seresin x fem!reader

genre: romance, angst, emotional resolution

wc: 4.3k

summary: Your and Jake’s relationship begins to unfold…

warnings: Strong emotional themes, sexual tension, smut!!, slow-burn payoff, fluff, vulnerable confessions, mentions of past intimacy, future-talk, established relationship feels.

a/n: “Better Man” by Leon Bridges

The kiss deepened before either of you had time to second-guess it.

Jake’s hands gripped your waist like he was scared you’d disappear. His lips were warm and urgent, like he’d been waiting for this moment far longer than he ever admitted. Your back hit the wall behind you, and you let out a gasp when he pinned you there, breath ragged, lips dragging down to your jaw.

It wasn’t just heat—it was heartache. Desire threaded with all the things neither of you had the guts to say when you were sober and surrounded by rules.

“You have no idea,” he whispered against your neck, “how long I’ve wanted this again.”

You threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging gently, grounding yourself as your chest heaved with something that felt dangerously like emotion.

“Jake…” you breathed.

“I know,” he said quietly, eyes meeting yours again. “I know it’s messy. But I can’t keep pretending that kiss didn’t mean something.”

You wanted to argue. Wanted to throw up every wall you’d ever built between you. But all that came out was a soft, “It did.”

His expression changed—just a flicker—but it was enough to undo you.

Jake kissed you again, slower this time. Less desperate. More deliberate.

Like he was memorizing the moment.

You let it happen. Because whatever this was, you weren’t ready to let go of it either.

⸻

Sometime Later

You hadn’t meant to end up on the couch with him, curled against his side under one of the base’s regulation throw blankets. But after the kiss—after several kisses—you’d both needed a moment to breathe.

Jake had pulled away first, brushing his thumb over your lower lip like he couldn’t believe he’d finally kissed you again. You’d expected him to crack a joke. To say something cocky. But instead, he’d just held you.

Silently. Like he didn’t trust himself to speak without ruining it.

Now, your head was on his shoulder, one of his hands resting lightly on your thigh. The air between you had calmed—less heat, more gravity. Like the eye of a storm had settled between you.

“I didn’t plan this,” he murmured into the stillness.

You tilted your head, voice soft. “Plan what?”

“This. You. Us.” Jake gave a small, humorless laugh. “I’ve been chasing everything else so hard—rank, recognition, wins—but none of it’s ever stuck. You did. And I hate that it took me this long to admit it.”

You stared at him, your chest twisting. Jake Seresin wasn’t the type to get emotional. Not like this. Not without meaning every word.

You slid your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. “Then stop running from it.”

He looked over at you, green eyes full of something dangerously close to hope. “You serious?”

“I don’t kiss people I don’t care about,” you whispered. “Even when it’s a bad idea.”

Jake smirked faintly. “And I’ve always been your worst idea, huh?”

You smiled despite yourself. “You still are.”

He leaned in slowly, brushing his lips against your forehead with a softness that felt almost too intimate to bear. “Then let me prove I can be your best one too.”

You knew it was a risk. You’d known it since the moment he’d walked into the room. But you’d never been one to back down from a risk.

Jake’s lips were soft but insistent against yours, and you couldn’t help but respond. The heat between the two of you was immediate, electric. It felt like every touch, every breath, was amplifying the tension that had been building for far too long.

You moaned into the kiss, unable to help yourself as Jake’s hands slid up your back, pulling you closer. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging slightly, and you shivered at the sensation. It was exhilarating, thrilling, and it felt like everything you’d been denying yourself for so long.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Jake whispered against your lips, his voice husky. “About you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you pressed yourself closer to him. “So have I,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

Jake’s grip on your waist tightened, his lips moving to your neck, trailing kisses along your skin. It felt incredible—the way his mouth moved over you, the heat of his touch, the desperation in his movements. It was like every moment you’d denied yourself, every time you’d told yourself no, was being made up for now.

You gasped as his teeth grazed your collarbone, his hand sliding up to cup your breast. The touch was electric, and you arched into it, needing more. Jake’s hand moved to the buttons of your shirt, undoing them slowly, deliberately, like he was savoring every second.

When your shirt fell open, Jake’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire. He looked at you like he was starving, like you were everything he’d ever wanted. The intensity of it was overwhelming, and for a moment, all you could do was stand there, caught in his gaze.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the edge of your bra. “I can’t believe you’re here with me.”

You couldn’t respond. All you could do was feel—feel the heat of his touch, feel the way your body responded to him, feel the years of tension and desire finally reaching a breaking point.

Jake’s hand slid behind your back, unclasping your bra with practiced ease. When he pulled it away, he let out a low groan, his eyes roaming over your body.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth.

The sensation was incredible—his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, his teeth grazing lightly, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You moaned, your hands fisting in his hair, holding him close as he worshiped your breasts with his mouth.

It felt so good, so right, like everything else had just melted away and all that was left was the two of you, lost in this moment of pure desire. You couldn’t think; you could only feel—feel his touch, feel his lips, feel the heat building between your legs.

Jake’s hands moved to your pants, undoing the button and zipper with deft fingers. When his hand slid into your panties, you gasped, your legs nearly giving way beneath you.

“You’re so wet,” Jake murmured, his finger sliding through your slick folds. “So ready for me.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. All you could do was nod, needing him to touch you more, to never stop. Jake’s fingers were magic, finding your clit and circling it slowly, teasingly, before sliding lower to push inside you.

The feeling of him stretching you, filling you, was indescribable. You moaned, pressing yourself against his hand, needing more. Jake added another finger, his thumb finding your clit again, and you felt yourself climbing higher and higher, the pleasure building with every stroke.

“Jake,” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. “I’m… I’m close.”

He looked up at you, his eyes blazing with desire. “I know,” he said, his fingers moving faster, harder. “Let go. I want to see you come apart.”

And with that, you did. The orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing over you and pulling you under. You cried out, your body shaking as Jake continued to stroke you through it, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

When you finally came down, Jake pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth to taste you. The sight of it was so erotic that you felt yourself growing aroused all over again.

“You taste amazing,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “But I want more. I want all of you.”

You nodded, unable to speak, as Jake quickly undid his own pants, pushing them down just enough to free his erection. He was hard, so hard, and the sight of him made your mouth water.

Jake pulled you closer, his tip brushing against your wet folds. “I need you,” he said, his voice raw. “I need to be inside you.”

“Yes,” you breathed, wrapping your legs around his waist as he lifted you up.

He entered you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You gasped at the feeling, at the stretch of him inside you. It felt incredible, perfect, like nothing you’d ever felt before.

Jake started to move, his thrusts slow at first but growing faster, harder, as his control slipped. You clung to him, your arms around his neck, your legs tight around his waist, as he pounded into you.

It was intense, passionate, all-consuming. Every thrust felt like it was touching a part of you that had never been touched before. Jake’s lips found yours again, kissing you deeply as he took you right there against the wall.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Jake growled against your lips. “Wanted you. Needed you.”

You couldn’t form words, couldn’t do anything but moan and cling to him as he drove into you again and again. The pleasure was building again, faster this time, more intense.

“Come for me,” Jake whispered, his voice strained. “Come with me.”

And as if on command, you did. Your orgasm hit you hard, making you cry out as you clenched around him. Jake followed soon after, his thrusts becoming erratic as he found his release inside you.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Jake held you close, his forehead resting against yours. For a long moment, neither of you moved, just holding each other as you both caught your breath.

“That was…” Jake started, trailing off as he searched for words.

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah. It was.”

Jake pulled out of you slowly, setting you down gently before tucking himself back into his pants. You fixed your clothes too, though your fingers felt numb, your whole body still buzzing from what had just happened.

“So,” Jake said, breaking the silence. He looked at you, a small smile playing at his lips. “We should probably talk about this, huh?”

You laughed, feeling a little giddy. “Yeah. Probably a good idea.”

But for now, you were just content to be there with him, to feel the warmth of his body next to yours, to know that whatever this was, it was real, and it was finally out in the open.

Later That Night

You didn’t sleep much.

Not for lack of trying—Jake had offered to leave, had even stood to go once, but the way your hand clutched at his shirt told him everything he needed to know. Instead, he stayed. Curled behind you on the narrow couch, one arm tucked under your neck, the other draped protectively over your waist.

Neither of you said anything.

Because in that quiet, tangled moment, words felt unnecessary.

But you both felt it.

The shift.

The realization that whatever you’d been tiptoeing around for so long wasn’t going away.

⸻

The Next Morning

You woke first. Jake’s chest was warm against your back, his breathing deep and even. Your heart thudded as you took in the view—the faint scruff on his jaw, the bare skin of his shoulder where the blanket had slipped, the way he looked peaceful in a way you rarely saw him.

And it scared you how badly you wanted this.

Wanted him.

You slipped out of his grasp carefully, feet cold against the tile floor. You didn’t go far—just into the hallway, where the reality of morning light felt like a slap.

Because what now?

What happened after the kiss? After the almosts?

You barely had time to think before the door cracked behind you and Jake stepped out, still shirtless, hair a rumpled mess, sleep in his eyes.

He squinted at you. “You ran off.”

You crossed your arms, unsure what to say. “Just needed a minute.”

Jake nodded slowly, stepping closer. “You okay?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know. This feels real.”

“It is.”

You looked up at him, finally voicing the fear that had been gnawing at your edges all night. “And if we ruin it?”

Jake reached out, hand curling gently around yours. “Then we rebuild it. Together.”

You stared at him.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like running.

You just nodded, fingers tightening around his.

The silence in your room wasn’t heavy—it was soft. Comforting. Like the kind that settles after a storm has passed.

Jake sat at the edge of your bed, head in his hands, elbows on his knees. His shoulders rose and fell slowly, like he was trying to find the words before he lost his nerve.

You stood by the window, arms wrapped around yourself, watching the morning sun wash over the base. You could still feel his warmth on your skin, the imprint of him in your bed, but the weight in the air wasn’t about lust anymore.

It was about everything that came after.

“I’ve loved you since before Vegas,” Jake said finally, voice low but steady.

You turned slowly, heart stumbling at the raw honesty in his tone.

He looked up at you then, eyes clearer than you’d ever seen them. “I didn’t say anything because I thought you’d run. I thought I’d screw it up. Hell, maybe I still will. But I’m tired of pretending that night was just a fluke. It wasn’t. You weren’t.”

You swallowed hard, throat tight.

“I didn’t say anything either,” you admitted. “I thought if I gave it time, the feeling would go away.”

Jake gave a bitter smile. “Did it?”

“No,” you whispered. “It got worse.”

That admission cracked something open. He stood, closing the space between you slowly, giving you time to back away—but you didn’t. His hands found your waist, grounding you, like he needed to touch you just to be sure this was real.

“I never knew how to want something that wasn’t flying,” he said quietly. “But then you came along. And suddenly it wasn’t the sky I was chasing anymore.”

You leaned your forehead against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin and warmth and something safer than anything you’d known in years.

“I’m scared, Jake,” you confessed.

“I am too,” he said. “But I’d rather be scared with you than safe without you.”

⸻

Weeks Later

It didn’t happen overnight. The relationship took root in quiet moments—late-night dinners in the mess hall, his hand on your knee during briefings, your voice in his ear after a rough flight.

People noticed. Of course they did.

Hangman—Jake Seresin—wasn’t exactly subtle.

But neither of you cared anymore.

You weren’t sneaking around. You weren’t hiding. You were building.

One night, months into the new normal, you came home to find him sitting on the floor of your apartment, back against the couch, guitar in his lap. He looked up as you entered, that soft smile he saved just for you already tugging at his mouth.

“Playin’ for someone?” you asked, dropping your keys and toeing off your boots.

Jake shook his head. “Just thinking.”

“Dangerous pastime,” you teased, flopping down beside him.

He strummed once—lightly, almost absentminded. Then he set the guitar aside and pulled you between his legs, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I’ve been thinking about the future,” he said, fingers curling lightly over your ribs. “About flying. About us.”

Your pulse kicked up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” A pause. “I want to build something real with you. Something that doesn’t depend on where we’re stationed or who’s deploying next. I want… I want a home.”

You turned in his arms, meeting his eyes.

Jake Seresin wasn’t perfect. He was proud and reckless and had a tendency to push buttons just to see if he could. But he showed up. Over and over again.

You reached up and touched his cheek. “Then let’s build it.”

⸻

Six Months Later

You stood in front of a mirror, heart hammering, smoothing down the simple white satin of your dress.

It wasn’t a traditional ceremony. No frills. No pews. Just you, Jake, and a few of your closest people standing under the open sky on a patch of coastal grass where you’d once watched him fly.

Phoenix zipped the back of your dress and gave your shoulders a squeeze. “You ready, Mrs. Seresin?”

You smiled, nerves twisting into something brighter. “I think I’ve been ready for him since Vegas.”

She grinned and pulled you into a hug. “Go knock him dead.”

⸻

Outside, Jake stood with his hands in his pockets, looking unfairly good in his dress whites. His eyes found you the second you stepped into view, and the world seemed to fall away.

No more fear. No more maybe. No more almost.

Just this.

Just him.

Just forever.

⸻

The Wedding

Jake had never looked at anything the way he looked at you walking toward him—like you were something sacred. Something his heart recognized before his mind could name it.

You wore no veil. No train. Just a simple white dress and a quiet, tearful smile that knocked the air from his lungs.

He was shaking when you took his hand.

“Hi,” you whispered, barely holding it together.

Jake chuckled, eyes shining. “Hey, darlin’. You look like a damn dream.”

The officiant spoke, but neither of you really heard it. Your whole world was wrapped up in each other—in the way your fingers interlaced like you were two puzzle pieces meant to fit, and in the unspoken vows already written into the way you looked at each other.

When it came time for the real vows, Jake took a breath, steadied himself, and began.

“I thought I was gonna fly solo for the rest of my life,” he said, voice thick. “That was the plan—stay untouchable, never get too close, always leave the door cracked so I could get out easy. Then you crashed through every wall I had without asking permission.”

You smiled, tears falling freely now.

“I never expected to fall in love with someone who’d hold my ego in check, challenge me, and still believe in me when I didn’t deserve it. But I did. And I do. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. You’re my home. And I’m never leaving it.”

You exhaled a shaky breath and laughed softly, wiping your cheeks.

Your vows came slower, broken up by emotion.

“I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to keep people at arm’s length, scared that if I let someone in, they’d leave or change or ruin the peace I finally found. But then you… you came in loud, all charm and cockiness, and somehow underneath it all was this quiet, steady strength I didn’t expect.”

Jake’s eyes never left yours. Not once.

“You made me feel safe to be messy. To be real. And you loved me not in spite of the hard parts—but because of them. I don’t want perfection with you. I want mornings and late-night talks and hard days we get through together. I want forever with you, Jake.”

Neither of you remembered the exact words the officiant said after that, only that you were suddenly being told to kiss your husband.

And Jake didn’t wait.

His hands cupped your face like you were fragile, like this moment would break if he rushed it—and he kissed you slowly, reverently. The world fell away again, and this time, it stayed gone.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“You’re stuck with me now,” he whispered.

“Good,” you said. “I’ve got plans for us.”

⸻

Later That Night

The sun had long dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky painted in navy and soft gold. You were barefoot on a porch at the little beachside inn you’d chosen for your quiet honeymoon. Waves crashed gently below.

Jake stepped out behind you, arms slipping around your waist, lips brushing your neck.

“Mrs. Seresin,” he murmured, teasing. “That’s gonna take some getting used to.”

You leaned into him, laughing softly. “You’ll survive.”

His hands slid down your arms, turning you to face him. You looked up at him in the dark—still Jake, still cocky and complicated and loyal to the bone. But softer now, too. Centered.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured. “I want all of it with you.”

You smiled and took his hand, leading him back inside, where candles flickered low and the air was full of quiet promise.

“You know what I’m gonna love most about being married to you?”

“Hm?” you asked, sleepy and warm against him.

“That every time I fly, I get to come home to you.”

Your heart ached in the best way.

“You always have,” you whispered. “Even before today.”

Jake kissed your forehead and pulled you close. “I’ll never stop choosing you.”

Your wedding night was a slow burn of desire, the kind that starts in your toes and creeps up through your body until you’re trembling with need. You’d waited so long for this moment, for the chance to truly be alone with him, and now that it was here, you couldn’t quite believe it.

Jake stood in front of you, his tuxedo abandoned in favor of a simple white shirt and black trousers. His eyes were dark with hunger as he watched you, drinking in the sight of you in your lacy white lingerie. You felt a shiver run down your spine under his gaze, anticipation building in your core.

He reached for you then, his hands sliding around your waist to pull you close. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the tension coiled in his muscles.

“I’ve been dreaming about this,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “About peeling this lace off you, about tasting every inch of your skin.”

You whimpered, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt. “Jake,” you breathed. “Please.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His mouth crashed down on yours, hot and demanding, as his hands began to explore your body. You moaned into the kiss, arching into his touch, desperate for more.

Jake broke the kiss only to trail his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he growled. “So perfect.”

His hands found the clasp of your bra, undoing it with practiced ease. The lace fell away, revealing your breasts to his hungry gaze. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but also incredibly turned on.

Jake’s mouth latched onto one nipple, sucking and licking while his fingers pinched and rolled the other. The sensation was overwhelming, and you cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“Jake,” you gasped. “Oh god, that feels so good.”

He didn’t stop, his mouth working your breasts until you were a writhing mess beneath him. Then, slowly, torturously, he began to kiss his way down your stomach, his tongue dipping into your navel as he went.

By the time he reached the edge of your panties, you were trembling with need. Jake could see it, could feel it in the way your thighs quivered beneath his touch.

“Look at you,” he murmured, nipping at the lace. “So wet for me already.”

You whimpered, pushing your hips up towards his mouth. “Please,” you begged. “I need you.”

Jake didn’t make you wait any longer. With one swift movement, he tore your panties away, leaving you completely bare before him. His breath ghosted over your slick folds, and you nearly came undone right then and there.

“Hangman,” you moaned, using his call sign in a way you never had before. It seemed fitting, somehow, for this moment when you were both so exposed, so vulnerable.

His tongue flicked out, tasting you for the first time. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as pleasure surged through you. Jake growled against your skin, his hands gripping your thighs as he devoured you.

It didn’t take long for him to find your clit, sucking it into his mouth as he slid two fingers inside you. You were tight, hot, and so fucking wet for him. Jake’s cock throbbed at the feel of you clenching around his fingers, but he forced himself to focus on you, on bringing you to the edge.

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “Let me taste you.”

His words, combined with the relentless movement of his fingers and the suction of his mouth, sent you spiraling over the edge. You came hard, crying out his name as your body shook with the force of your orgasm.

Jake didn’t stop, drawing out your pleasure until you were begging him to stop, overwhelmed by the sensations flooding your body. Only then did he relent, pulling back to look up at you with dark, hooded eyes.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, kissing his way back up your body. “Absolutely fucking beautiful.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a deep, hungry kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it only made you hotter, needier.

“My turn,” you whispered against his lips, pushing him onto his back.

Jake raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this bold side of you. “Whatever you want, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and husky.

You smiled, a slow, seductive curve of your lips. Then, with deliberate slowness, you began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest inch by tantalizing inch. Jake watched you, his breathing growing heavier as you worked your way down to his waistband.

Once the shirt was gone, you turned your attention to his trousers, undoing them with deft fingers. Jake lifted his hips to help you, his cock straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs.

You didn’t give him a chance to catch his breath. As soon as his pants were out of the way, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down, freeing his erection.

Jake groaned at the sight of you kneeling between his legs, your breasts swaying gently as you moved. He reached for you, but you shook your head, pressing his hands back against the bed.

“Not yet,” you said, your voice a sultry purr. “This is my time.”

Jake nodded, though his hips jerked involuntarily at the sound of your voice, at the sight of your pink tongue darting out to wet your lips.

You leaned down, your breath fanning over the head of his cock. Jake’s whole body tensed in anticipation, his fingers curling into the sheets.

The first touch of your lips was almost too much. Jake’s hips surged up, seeking more of your mouth, but you held him down, keeping control.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “Your mouth feels incredible.”

You didn’t respond, too focused on the task at hand. You took him deeper, your tongue swirling around his length, your hand stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

Jake was losing it, his hips moving in time with your strokes, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Darlin’,” he panted. “You gotta stop. I’m gonna come.”

You pulled back then, releasing him with a soft pop. “Not yet,” you whispered, straddling his waist. “I want to come with you.”

Jake’s hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you sank down onto his cock. You were so wet, so ready for him, that you took him all in one smooth motion, both of you crying out at the sensation.

“God,” Jake gritted out, his fingers digging into your skin. “You feel so fucking good.”

You began to move then, rising up and sinking back down, setting a slow, torturous pace. Jake’s hands guided your hips, helping you find the perfect rhythm.

With each thrust, you could feel him hitting deeper, touching places inside you that made you see stars.

It didn’t take long before you were both on the edge, bodies straining together, sweat-slicked skin sliding against skin. Jake reached between you, his thumb finding your clit as you rode him.

“Come with me,” he growled, his hips snapping up to meet yours. “Now.”

The combination of his cock filling you and his thumb on your clit was too much. You came with a scream, your body clamping down on his as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Jake followed you over the edge, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his release.

You collapsed on top of him then, both of you breathing heavily, hearts racing. Jake’s arms came around you, holding you close as you came down from the high.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “That was…”

You nodded against his chest. “Yeah.”

Jake chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest. “I think we’re gonna have a really great marriage.”

⸻

Six Months Later

The apartment was a little cramped, the baby room was still a work in progress, and Jake had nearly burned dinner trying to multitask, but it didn’t matter.

He stood in the kitchen, holding you from behind as you stared at the ultrasound picture on the fridge, your hand resting over his.

“I still can’t believe we made a human,” he muttered, grinning into your hair.

“I can,” you teased. “I mean, we had a lot of practice.”

Jake chuckled and kissed your temple. “You sure you’re okay with me still flying?”

You turned in his arms, grounding him with your eyes. “I married a pilot. I knew what I was signing up for. As long as you keep coming home, we’re good.”

He cupped your cheek, gaze soft. “Always.”

⸻

Epilogue: Years Later

The sky above the backyard was streaked with pink and orange. A little girl with green eyes and your nose was running barefoot through the grass, giggling as Jake chased after her, pretending to be a monster.

You watched from the porch, pregnant with your second, heart full to the brim.

Jake scooped your daughter into his arms, twirling her until she shrieked with delight.

Then he looked at you—the same way he had on your wedding day, and every day since. Like you were everything.

And you were.

He came over, breathless, flushed from laughing, and kissed you slow.

“Still flying high, Hangman?” you teased.

He rested his forehead against yours. “Only when I’m with you, darlin’.”

The end.

[lightwing-s]

nightwing teasing y/n with his Escrima sticks (erotic electrostimulation) before he slides himself in... please and thank you

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

Dick had you tied up on his bed. Spread wide open. Wrists and ankles hooked to different ends of the furniture, forbidding you from moving even an inch. Of touching anything that wasn’t him or his dick through the walls of every single hole you owned. He’d been in all of them tonight. 

You were a bliss of sweat and overstimulation. A pool of your mixed juices already soaking the bed sheet underneath you. But your boyfriend had a vigilante’s stamina, and even though he’d made you cum more than four times tonight, and he himself must have had just as many orgasms as you, he wasn’t even close to finishing off with you. Ooh, he could last the whole night.

Feeling his cold hands sliding through the valley of your tits, you squirmed once he grabbed at one of them tightly. His nails dig on the sensitive skin, leaving red crescent moons as another piece of decoration on your chest, joining the purple and red stains and the bite marks he had left earlier to create a beautiful and sinful body of art. 

Your eyes pooled with water, and you extended your neck to catch a sight of his tall frame on top of yours. His hard-on slammed on your cheek, right beside your mouth, and you just had to turn your head, the only part of your body you still could move, to catch it between your lips. You sucked on the tip, the taste of his precum and your highs, all together, hitting your tongue. Abruptly, he thrusted his hip, sinking his cock deep in your throat, and you left out a muffled cry. A tear falling down your face.

Dick let out a chuckle. Dark and pretentious. “Can’t leave a hole unattended for too long. Right, my little slut?” he said, wiping your tears with his thumb. His cock still filling your mouth, making your jaw hurt from being open wide for too long. 

The sweet gesture of his thumb caressing your cheek had you fooled. Thinking he was done being rough. But, he just diverted your attention away from the long stick he had in his hand. You only realized what he was doing when a strong jolt of electricity swept through your entire body from your core, making your back arch up from the sudden sensation. You almost let out a scream, if it wasn’t for your full mouth.

“Quiet. Quiet, little one,” he cooed, stroking your cheeks with his knuckles.

You felt the stick resting on top of your clit again, just the pressure Dick was putting in making you water. Your heart beat faster in anticipation of the sensation about to come, but your boyfriend liked to play. He knew you were expecting it at any minute now, so he wouldn’t give it to you then, instead, pulling it in and out of you with swift moves. 

You cried out in pleasure, your moans stimulating Dick’s cock and making him cum inside your mouth. His seed spilling out of the corners of your lips. When he finally slipped his cock out of your sweet little mouth, another strong burst of energy hit your clit and this time you let out a loud scream. Dick laughed at you again, enjoying every single one of your squirms, cries and pleas for him to stop. He wasn’t going to stop, not yet.

Suddenly, you felt his presence leave your side, and instead of finding time to pull yourself together, you worried about what he was about to do to you. The room was silent, and you had your eyes slammed shut, too weak to even open it. You felt your last orgasm sliding out of your folds, pooling under your ass. Without any warning, his cock ripped you apart, following along with one and another jolt of energy from his escrima stick.

With his free hand, he pressed his fingers on your waist, trying to keep your hips down. “Quiet,” he devilishly laughed. But your body jumped with each thrust and each jolt he continued to send through your body. Soon, he had you cumming once and twice, to the point your body was so weak it wasn’t responding anymore to the sensations he had been giving you.

Unresponsive, you laid in bed trying to catch your breath, while your boyfriend reached his high once more within your walls with a loud grunt.

“You’re so good to me, my little slut,” he complimented, leaving a trail of kisses from your oversensitive clit, all the way up to your lips. “So. Fucking. Good.” He gave you a kiss, tongue sliding in as you felt the ropes getting loose. He had you untrapped, and immediately your arms and legs wrapped up around his neck and waist. He laughed again, the vibrations reverberating through your body. Pulling away from the kiss, exhausted and sore, you felt his lips on your cheeks, your tear soaked eyes, and your sweaty forehead.

Your breathing started to steady, as his lips now lingered just below your ears. Eyes still closed, you were ready to fall asleep, tangled on his body for warmth, and he continued his caresses all over your skin.

“No, no, no, baby,” he whispered sensually in your ear. “We’re not done yet.” You groaned, and felt his smile speaking against your neck. “We still have a long night ahead.”

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 14/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, teasing, Language, age gap

Word Count: 7612

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and despite the overwhelming sensations you had just experienced, your desire for him only grew.

“I need to be inside you”, he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

Jensen knew exactly what his words did to you, and he relished the effect he had on you. With a teasing grin, he sat back, pulling his shirt over his head to reveal his toned body.

He stood up from the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped off the rest of his clothes. Each piece of clothing he removed revealed more of his perfect physique, leaving you in awe of his raw masculinity. His movements were slow and deliberate, giving you ample time to admire every inch of him.

Jensen stepped back towards the bed, his erection standing proud and commanding your attention. The sight of him, so raw and powerful, sent another surge of desire through you. But as your eyes traveled down his body, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of intimidation. You remembered how intense it had been the last time, how Jensen had stretched you out until it hurt in the most delicious way.

Sensing your hesitation, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that was filled with both reassurance and hunger. “I’ve got you”, he murmured against your lips.

With a gentle but insistent grip, he spread your legs wider, positioning himself between them. He took a moment to caress your thighs, his touch sending shivers up your spine. “Ready?”, he asked, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of passion and concern.

You nodded, your breath coming in short, excited gasps.

He grabbed his dick by its base, the heat of it juxtaposed against the slickness of your folds as he let it slip through them a few times, teasing and preparing you. Each pass made you shiver, the anticipation building with each tantalizing touch.

Then, with deliberate care, he lined himself up at your entrance, his eyes meeting yours as he started to inch forward. The initial pressure made you gasp, but the sensation was intoxicating. However, as the pleasure took control, Jensen lost himself in the moment and sank inside you with one deep, powerful thrust.

You cried out, your hands gripping his shoulders as he filled you completely. The sudden stretch was intense, but the way he fit inside you felt perfect. Jensen groaned loudly, the sound filled with raw pleasure as he felt your tightness envelop him.

“You’re so tight", he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Feels incredible”.

The fullness and pressure sent waves of sensation through your body, making you arch against him, seeking more. “Jensen”, you moaned, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all.

Jensen started to move, his thrusts instantly setting a rougher pace. Each powerful, deep stroke made your pelvis rock against his, the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot with unerring precision. The intensity of the sensation made your head spin.

“You feel so good”, he groaned, his voice rough with desire. “So fucking tight around me. You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you?”.

Your stomach churned at his words, making you even wetter. Your hands clutched his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh as you tried to ground yourself against the overwhelming sensation. This was the first time Jensen had gone rougher with you, and the intensity was almost more than you could handle.

As the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level, you instinctively closed your eyes, trying to manage the onslaught of sensations. But Jensen wasn’t having it. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Keep your eyes open, sweetheart”, he commanded, his voice low and authoritative.

To emphasize his point, he thrust into you hard and deep, the force of it almost painful but overwhelmingly intense. Your eyes flew open, locking onto his as the pleasure and slight pain mingled into something even more powerful.

“That’s it”, he growled, his eyes burning with desire. “I want to see you when you come. I want to see everything”.

The way he looked at you, so possessive and hungry, sent a fresh wave of arousal through your body. His hips moved with a relentless rhythm, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

You moaned his name, your voice raw with need. “Jensen… please…”.

“Please what?”, he asked, his thrusts never faltering. “Tell me what you want”.

“I want to come”, you begged, your body trembling. “I need it”.

Jensen’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Then come for me”, he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Come for me, right now”.

His words, combined with the intensity of his thrusts, sent you spiraling into another orgasm. Your body convulsed around him, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Without giving you a moment to catch your breath, Jensen pulled out of you, his movements swift and determined. He turned you onto your stomach, his hands gripping your hips with a bruising grasp as he pulled you up onto your knees. The sudden shift made you whimper, a mixture of surprise and anticipation coursing through you.

“Stay right there”, he commanded, his voice husky with arousal. His hands slid up your back, caressing your skin before returning to your hips, positioning you exactly how he wanted.

You felt his hard length pressing against you again, the heat and urgency of his need almost overwhelming. Jensen didn’t waste any time, thrusting back into you with a force that made you cry out. The new angle sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, each powerful stroke hitting deep inside you.

Jensen’s pace was relentless, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drove into you over and over.

He paused for a moment, his mind racing with desire. Then, with a firm but gentle grip, he tangled his fingers in your hair and pulled your head up, testing your reaction. The initial pull was gentle, a tentative check to see if you enjoyed it. You responded with a breathless moan, the sensation heightening your arousal.

Taking your reaction as encouragement, Jensen tightened his grip, pulling your head back further. The mix of pleasure and the slight edge of pain made you gasp, your body arching into the sensation. “I knew you weren’t that innocent”, he groaned teasingly.

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel your arousal intensify. Jensen’s grip on your hair was firm, the control he had over you pushing you closer to the edge. His other hand moved to your waist, holding you steady as he resumed his powerful thrusts.

“You like it rough, don’t you?”, he murmured, his voice low and rough. “You like it when I take control”.

“Yes”, you moaned, your voice barely audible as the pleasure overwhelmed you. “I love it”.

Jensen’s grip tightened even more, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. The new angle sent jolts of pleasure through your body, each stroke hitting your most sensitive spots. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensation.

“Good girl”, Jensen whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

Jensen’s hips slapped against yours with each powerful thrust, the sound mingling with your moans and the wetness between your thighs. By now, you were just a moaning mess, your body completely at his mercy. Your pussy ached from the intensity, your head spinning with the overwhelming sensations. The only thing you could think about was his thick cock splitting you in half with each deep, hard thrust.

Jensen knew exactly what he was doing, each movement calculated to hit the perfect spots inside you. His grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you back against him, his chest pressing against your back.

Your only response was a series of breathless moans and gasps, your body arching back into him, desperate for more of the intense pleasure he was giving you. Jensen’s free hand moved from your waist to your clit, his fingers expertly rubbing and adding another layer of sensation that made you cry out.

You gasped, your breath coming in ragged, desperate bursts. “I can’t… I can’t anymore”, you whimpered, the intensity overwhelming you. But Jensen could feel how close you were, your body clenching around him with every thrust.

“Yes, you can”, he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I know you can. You’re so close, baby. Just a little more”.

His words spurred you on, your body responding to his command even as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of what you could handle. Jensen’s fingers on your clit moved faster, his thrusts growing even more powerful as he drove you towards another orgasm.

“Come for me”, he urged, his voice filled with raw desire. “I want to feel you come again. I want to feel you squeeze me so tight”.

The combination of his words and the relentless pleasure he was giving you pushed you over the edge. Your body convulsed as you came hard, your climax crashing over you with an intensity that left you shaking. You cried out his name, the sound filling the room as your body tightened around him.

Jensen’s restraint was evident in the way his muscles tensed, in the way his breath hitched.

Your body went numb, your ears ringing and your breath burning. Jensen held you close to his chest, preventing you from collapsing forward.

“You did so well, baby”, he murmured breathless. Jensen’s hands roamed gently over your stomach, caressing your skin as you shivered in his arms. “Just breathe”, he whispered, his lips brushing your temple. “I’ve got you”.

Gradually, your breathing steadied, the ringing in your ears subsiding. You felt the strength return to your limbs, though your body still tingled from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Jensen kissed your shoulder blades, his lips leaving a trail of warmth across your skin. One of his arms was wrapped securely around you, his hand cupping your left breast, squeezing it softly. The gentle pressure sent another shiver of pleasure through your already sensitized body.

“Okay?”, he asked raspily after a while, his voice filled with both concern and desire.

You nodded weakly, your hands gripping his arm around your waist, trying to steady yourself. Jensen gave you a few more moments, his touch gentle and soothing, before he carefully pulled out. He sat back against the headboard of the bed, giving himself a few pumps as he looked at you expectantly.

Realization dawned on you, and you felt a wave of nervousness wash over you. You had never been on top before, and the thought of taking control in such an intimate way made your heart race. Jensen must have sensed your hesitation because his expression softened, his eyes filled with reassurance.

“It’s okay”, he murmured. “We’ll go at your pace. There’s no rush”.

His words calmed you a bit, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You moved slowly, straddling his hips and feeling the heat of his arousal pressing against you. Jensen’s hands rested on your thighs, offering support and encouragement.

You bit your lip nervously as you gently took Jensen’s length in your hand, feeling its warmth and solidity against your palm. In your grasp, it looked larger than it did in his own, adding to your sense of anticipation and nervousness. Jensen watched you closely, his gaze fixed on your face, studying every little movement and expression.

“I don’t want to hurt you”, you whispered, voicing your concern as you shifted slightly.

Jensen chuckled softly, a hint of cockiness in his demeanor as he gripped your hipbones firmly, his touch both reassuring and possessive. “Trust me, baby”, he murmured, his voice low and filled with confidence. “You won’t hurt me. Just relax and let go”.

His words eased some of your tension, and you nodded, drawing another deep breath to steady yourself. Slowly, you positioned yourself over him again, guiding him to your entrance. With a mixture of nervousness and determination, you began to lower yourself onto him, taking him in inch by inch.

Jensen groaned, his head falling back against the headboard as his grip on your hips loosened slightly. The sound of his pleasure sent a thrill through you, bolstering your confidence. You paused for a moment, savoring the sensation of him filling you partially, still not completely lowered.

The anticipation built within you, a mix of nerves and desire driving you forward. You took another deep breath and continued to lower yourself onto him, feeling every inch as you took him deeper. Jensen’s breathing grew heavier, his hands caressing your thighs in encouragement.

“That’s it”, he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. “Take your time. You’re doing so well”.

You bit your lip again, focusing on the sensations coursing through your body. Inch by inch, you descended further, until finally, you were fully seated on him. The feeling of fullness was intense, a perfect blend of pleasure and pressure that made you gasp.

You swallowed hard at the new angle, the intensity of the sensation leaving you momentarily afraid to move. Jensen’s eyes met yours, filled with a mix of desire and reassurance. He reached up, gently pulling your shirt up and over your head, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. His fingers deftly unhooked your bra, sliding it off your shoulders and letting it fall away.

His hands moved to your breasts, cupping them gently and rolling your nipples between his fingers. The touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you gasp.

You started to move your hips slowly and carefully, the sensation of Jensen inside you intensifying with each subtle movement. Jensen’s breath hitched, the strain of restraint evident in the way his veins stood out on his neck.

His hands continued to explore your breasts, his touch both tender and possessive. He gently squeezed and kneaded, his thumbs brushing lightly over your sensitive nipples, eliciting soft moans from your lips. The combination of his touch and the slow, deliberate rocking of your hips sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

You adjusted your movements, experimenting with angles and rhythms, seeking the perfect balance of pleasure for both of you.

Jensen raised a brow, watching you with a mixture of tenderness and amusement as you bit your lip in concentration, still trying to find the right rhythm and angle. Despite your efforts, your lack of experience and the fatigue in your knees from previous orgasms made it challenging to maintain the smoothness you desired.

“You’re not often on top, are you?”, he grinned, his voice tinged with playful affection.

Your eyes met his instantly, and you felt a wave of insecurity and a touch of shame wash over you. You tried to overplay it, giving him a small, forced smile. “Is it that obvious?”, you replied, attempting to sound lighthearted.

Jensen licked his lips, the sight of your vulnerability and willingness to learn clearly turning him on. His eyes darkened with a mix of desire and affection. “It’s a bit obvious”, he admitted with a playful grin, “but I think it’s incredibly sexy”.

Your forced smile softened, turning more genuine as you absorbed his reassurance. “Let me help you”, he whispered.

His large hands moved to your hips, adjusting your position with a gentle but firm touch. He bent you slightly forward, the new angle immediately changing the sensation. Your breath hitched as you felt the head of his length brush against your G-spot, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

“Oh”, you gasped, your eyes widening at the intensity of the new sensation. Jensen’s hands held you steady, guiding your movements with a tender but confident touch.

“Just like that”, he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. “You feel that? That’s your sweet spot”.

You nodded, your heart pounding as you adjusted to the new angle. Slowly, you began to move again, this time more sure of yourself as Jensen’s guidance helped you find a rhythm that felt incredible. Each movement sent ripples of pleasure radiating from your core, building a delicious tension within you.

Jensen’s grip on your hips tightened slightly, his own breath becoming more ragged as he watched you take control. “You’re doing amazing, baby”, he groaned, his eyes never leaving yours. “Keep going. Just like that”.

You moaned in response, the pleasure building within you almost overwhelming. “It feels so good”, you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as you rode the waves of sensation.

“Look at me”, Jensen murmured.

You opened your eyes, locking gazes with him. The intensity in his eyes, a mix of raw desire and deep affection, sent another shiver down your spine.

“Let me show you something”, Jensen murmured, his voice filled with promise. He shifted slightly beneath you, his hands steadying your hips as he helped. “Move just like this”.

Following his lead, you rocked your hips in the way he demonstrated, feeling the sensation change immediately. It was deeper, more intense, and you could tell by Jensen’s reaction that it was hitting the right spot for him too.

“Yes, that’s it”, he groaned, his eyes closing for a moment in sheer pleasure before reopening to lock onto yours.

Jensen had been with women who knew exactly what they were doing, women who moved with practiced precision and confidence. But there was something incredibly arousing about your hesitation, your innocence, your struggle to keep up with his size. It was your genuine effort and eagerness to please him that turned him on more than anything else.

Your palms flattened against Jensen’s shoulders, your lip constantly between your teeth as you moved your hips against him. The sensation of your tightness around him was almost too much for Jensen, and he had to hold back to maintain control. His face dropped against your chest, his lips trailing down towards your nipples, each kiss sending shivers through your body. You held him close by his hair, savoring the intimate connection.

But as the intensity built, your movements began to slow, exhaustion starting to take over. “Keep moving”, Jensen urged, his voice slightly rough and strained with need, his lips brushing against your breast. The urgency in his voice sent a renewed wave of desire through you, but your body felt heavy, each motion requiring more effort than the last.

Sensing your struggle, Jensen’s grip on your hips tightened. He began to guide your movements more forcefully, his hands urging you to keep the rhythm. “Don’t stop”, he groaned, his need evident in every word.

As you rode him with everything you had, Jensen’s face dropped back against your collarbone, his hot breath fanning your skin. His lips trailed up your neck, delivering soft bites and kisses that sent electric shivers through your body.

“Jensen”, you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper as you felt the build of your climax becoming inevitable. His name on your lips seemed to push him closer to his own edge.

With one final, powerful thrust, you felt your orgasm crash over you, your body clenching tightly around him. You cried out his name, the intensity of the sensation leaving you trembling and breathless. The way your body squeezed him was too much for Jensen, and with a guttural moan, he released deep inside you, his hot cum filling you as he pulsed through his climax.

Both of you were left panting, your bodies spent and intertwined. Jensen’s face rested against your collarbone, his breath heavy and warm against your skin. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as you both came down from the heights of your shared pleasure.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your synchronized breathing and the comforting warmth of his body against yours. Jensen’s lips found your neck again, this time in a soft, loving kiss. He lingered there, his breath warm against your skin as he planted a trail of gentle kisses up to your jawline. You could feel the smile forming on his lips as he nuzzled into you, clearly enjoying the intimate aftermath of your shared climax.

“Still got some energy left in you?”, he teased, his voice a low, playful whisper against your ear. His breath tickled your skin, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

You swallowed, feeling the lingering effects of your intense climax. Your legs were still shaking, and a pleasant dizziness left you feeling unable to sit up anymore. But you didn’t want to admit that, not wanting to seem weak. “Of course”, you replied, trying to sound convincing.

Jensen could tell you were lying. His teasing smile widened, and he pressed another kiss to your neck, his hands still caressing your back. “Really?”, he murmured, his voice laced with playful skepticism. “Because you look like you’re about to collapse on me”.

You tried to maintain your composure, but your body betrayed you, trembling slightly as you tried to hold yourself up. Jensen’s hands moved to your hips, supporting you as he continued to nuzzle your neck. “I’m fine”, you insisted, though your voice lacked conviction.

Jensen’s chuckle was low and knowing. “You don’t have to pretend with me”, he said softly, his tone gentle but firm.

You didn't say anything.

“You’re so stubborn,” he murmured teasingly, his breath warm against your ear. “But I kind of like that about you”.

You managed a weak smile, trying to maintain your composure, but Jensen’s persistence made it difficult. He kissed his way up to your jawline, his lips lingering there for a moment before pulling back slightly to meet your eyes. “I can feel how exhausted you are”, he said, his voice a playful growl. “And I think it’s adorable that you’re trying so hard to hide it”.

You bit your lip, trying to keep up the pretense, but your body was giving out. Jensen’s hands shifted to your thighs, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your skin.

You sighed, finally letting the last of your defenses down. “Fine, you win”, you admitted, your voice soft but laced with affection. “I’m exhausted”.

Jensen’s smile widened, a mixture of cockiness and sweetness. “I knew it”, he said triumphantly. “But that just makes me want to take care of you even more”.

Before acting too fast, he looked around, spotting the tissue box on your nightstand. He reached over and pulled out a few tissues, then gently eased you down onto the mattress. He moved with care, ensuring you were comfortable.

When he gently pulled out of you, he quickly caught his leaking cum with the tissues, his movements tender and considerate. “Just relax”, he murmured. “I’ve got you”.

You watched him through half-lidded eyes, appreciating his thoughtfulness. Jensen cleaned you up with gentle strokes, his touch soothing and filled with affection. Once he was satisfied that you were comfortable, he discarded the used tissues and let himself sink beside you, his own exhaustion finally catching up with him. He gently pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace.

“I wasn’t that bad, right?”, you asked hesitantly, your voice clearly unsure. The uncertainty in your tone made Jensen chuckle softly. He kissed your forehead, a tender gesture that made your heart swell with affection.

“Do you want the sweet answer or the honest one?”, he teased.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a pang of anxiety. “Honest”, you mumbled quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Jensen’s smile widened, and he bent down, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing on your skin. “Honestly”, he whispered, his voice low and filled with raw desire, “yours is the best pussy I’ve ever fucked”.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, both from the intimate confession and the intensity of his tone. You felt a rush of warmth and pride, your insecurities melting away in the face of his genuine praise.

Jensen smirked down at you, enjoying the sight of your blush spreading across your cheeks. Your eyes were half-closed, looking completely spent, yet filled with a quiet satisfaction. He couldn’t help but tease you a bit more, his voice playful and affectionate.

“The old man really did wear you out, huh?”, he said, a grin spreading across his face.

You laughed softly, the sound a mix of exhaustion and contentment. “Maybe just a little”, you admitted, your voice still breathless from the intensity of your shared experience.

Jensen’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Just a little, huh?”, he teased, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin. “I think I did more than just a little”.

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of his touch and the playful edge in his voice. “Okay, maybe a lot”, you admitted, smiling up at him.

Jensen’s expression softened as he gazed at you, his eyes filled with affection. He gently lifted your head, looking at you for a moment as if committing the sight to memory. Then, he bent down slightly and softly laid his lips on yours.

You melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer. The exhaustion you felt seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of his embrace and the gentle pressure of his lips against yours. Jensen’s hands cradled your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his affection and tenderness into the moment.

As the kiss deepened, Jensen's embrace grew tighter, pulling you impossibly closer. His lips moved with a slow, deliberate passion, conveying emotions that words couldn't capture.

When he finally pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, Jensen's eyes searched yours with a mixture of adoration and wonder. "You're something else", he whispered against your lips, his voice husky with emotion.

Your heart fluttered at his words. "So are you", you replied softly, your fingers trailing gently along his jawline.

Jensen kissed you once more, his fingers tracing gently over your lower back, sending delightful shivers through your body. His touch was soft and reverent, as if he was savoring every moment. As his lips moved tenderly against yours, he mumbled, “Your skin is so smooth”, his voice filled with awe.

You chuckled softly, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes, your own twinkling with amusement. “You’ve told me that a million times”, you teased gently, remembering how he had praised the smoothness of your skin during your last night together.

Jensen grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “And I’ll say it a million more times”, he replied, his fingers continuing their gentle exploration of your back.

With a gentle tug, he pulled you flat onto his body, your chest pressed against his. The warmth of his skin against yours sent another delightful shiver through you. You nestled into him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

He looked down at you. “Comfortable?”, he asked, his voice a playful whisper.

You smiled up at him, feeling completely at ease in his arms. “Very”, you replied, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “I could stay like this forever”.

Jensen’s smile softened, and he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips. “I wouldn’t mind”, he murmured against your lips. “Not one bit”.

You laughed softly, the sound a mix of contentment and affection. “You’re such a sap”, you teased, though your heart swelled.

“Only for you”, he responded, his hands gently roaming over your back, drawing lazy patterns that made you feel even more relaxed.

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

For a while, you lay there in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the closeness and warmth of each other’s presence. The world outside ceased to matter, and all that existed was the two of you, wrapped up in a cocoon of love and intimacy.

Jensen’s voice broke the silence, soft and filled with tenderness. “You know, I never thought I’d find someone like you”, he said, his fingers still tracing gentle patterns on your back.

“Someone like me?”, you whispered teasingly. “Like someone who makes old man jokes?”.

Jensen’s expression shifted from tenderness to mock offense, and before you could react, you felt a sharp but playful slap on your ass. “Hey!”, you yelped, both surprised and amused.

“You ruined the damn moment”, he said with a grin.

“I’m sorry”, you said, still smiling, but Jensen shook his head. “Nuh uh”, he replied, his grin widening.

“Please, come on”, you said, your tone turning playful and a bit pleading. “What is it you wanted to say?”.

Jensen just shook his head again. “Nope, you had your chance”.

Determined, you propped yourself up on your elbows, pouting and looking at him with big, pleading eyes. “Pleeeaaase”, you whined softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his jaw. “Tell me?”.

Jensen’s resolve seemed to waver as you continued to kiss along his jawline, your lips trailing soft, teasing kisses. “Please, Jensen?”, you murmured against his skin, your voice a soft, seductive whisper.

He groaned softly, clearly enjoying the attention but trying to hold on to his playful stubbornness. “You’re not playing fair”, he muttered, his hands sliding up your back.

You smiled against his skin, knowing you were getting to him. “I never play fair”, you whispered, continuing your kisses, moving closer to his lips. “But I really want to know”.

Jensen sighed dramatically, pretending to be exasperated, but the fondness in his eyes gave him away. “Alright, alright”, he said, his voice softening as he looked at you. “What I wanted to say was… I never thought I’d find someone who makes me as happy as you do”.

You felt a blush rising to your cheeks, your heart racing like crazy at his words. Overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings, you pressed your face against his chest, seeking refuge in the comforting warmth of his embrace. Expressing such deep emotions was something you often struggled with, even though your heart was overflowing with love for him.

Jensen chuckled softly, his hand coming up to gently stroke your hair. “You’re blushing”, he teased, his voice soft and affectionate. “You’re so adorable when you get all shy on me”.

You mumbled something unintelligible against his chest, feeling both embarrassed and touched by his words. Jensen’s fingers continued to comb through your hair soothingly, his touch grounding you and helping to calm your racing heart.

“You know”, he murmured softly, his voice a gentle murmur above your head, “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me”.

You felt your heart flutter at his words, a mixture of warmth and nervousness filling you. “You really mean that?”, you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen’s hand stilled in your hair for a moment. “Absolutely”, he said with conviction. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before”.

“I’ve never felt this way either”, you admitted, your voice trembling slightly.

You pressed your face harder against his naked, slightly sticky chest, seeking the comforting warmth of his skin.

Jensen’s hand resumed its soothing motions in your hair, his touch gentle and reassuring. “It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?”, he said softly, his voice a gentle rumble you felt through his chest. “Finding someone who makes you feel like this”.

You nodded against him, the words too heavy and meaningful to speak aloud. Instead, you let your actions convey what you felt, your arms wrapping tightly around him, holding him close.

He kissed the top of your head, before he shifted slightly, adjusting your position so you were more comfortable against him. His hand continued to stroke your hair.

As you lay there together, you realized that this was just the beginning.

“Thank you”, you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen pressed another kiss to your head, his lips lingering there for a moment before he replied, “For what?”.

“For being you”, you replied honestly.

A smile tugged at the corners of Jensen’s lips, his eyes softening with affection as he gazed down at you.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, the intensity of the moment hanging between you. Without another word, Jensen leaned down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

Jensen gently turned around with you, shifting his weight until he hovered above you. His lips never left yours, the kiss deepening with each passing moment, filled with a mixture of passion and tenderness. As he moved, his hands explored your body with gentle caresses, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

His lips began to travel down your jawline, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your skin.

As his lips continued their journey, they found the sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to gasp softly. Jensen’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture as he kissed and nibbled his way down to your collarbone.

The feeling of his lips on your skin was both intoxicating and comforting, a blend of familiarity and excitement. You arched slightly beneath him, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, wanting more of his touch.

Jensen’s kisses grew more deliberate as he moved lower, trailing down over your collarbone and toward your breasts. His breath was hot against your skin, his touch gentle yet insistent. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours, seeking silent permission to continue.

You nodded, your eyes half-closed with desire, and Jensen’s lips found their way to the sensitive skin of your breast. He pressed a kiss just above your heart before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it with exquisite care.

A soft moan escaped your lips, your body responding to his touch with a fervor you could barely contain. Jensen’s hand cupped your other breast, his thumb and forefinger gently teasing your nipple, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, urging him to continue. Jensen responded by lavishing the same attention on your other breast, his lips and tongue working in harmony to drive you wild.

As he continued to explore your body, his kisses trailed lower, moving down your abdomen with the same tender care. Each touch, each kiss, was a testament to the deep connection and affection you shared, a promise of more to come.

Jensen paused just above your navel, his eyes meeting yours once more. The look in his eyes was one of pure love and desire, a reflection of the bond you had formed.

Slowly, he moved lower, his kisses trailing down to your hips. With gentle hands, he spread your legs, his touch tender and reverent. He started to kiss your inner thighs, his lips brushing against your skin with a delicate intensity that made you shiver.

His eyes remained locked with yours, the connection between you deepening with every glance.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Jensen’s kisses grew more insistent, his hands gently caressing your thighs.

He moved closer to your core, his breath hot against your skin, and you could feel your pulse quicken in response. Jensen’s eyes never left yours, his gaze a steady anchor in the overwhelming tide of sensations. “Trust me”, he whispered. “Just let go”.

With that, he dipped his head lower, his lips finally finding their way to your most intimate spot. The first touch of his mouth against you was electric, a jolt of pleasure that made you arch your back and gasp his name. But instead of diving in with his tongue, Jensen took his time, savoring the moment. His lips moved with exquisite gentleness, placing featherlight kisses on your most intimate spots.

Your breath hitched with each gentle kiss, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as the anticipation built to a fever pitch. “Jensen”, you breathed, your voice trembling with need. “Please…”.

His response was a soft hum of acknowledgment, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued his tender exploration. The kisses grew a little firmer, a little more insistent, but still maintaining that featherlight touch that was driving you wild with desire.

Just then, Jensen’s phone on the nightstand rang, the screen lighting up with Jared’s name. The sound cut through the haze of pleasure, making you momentarily aware of your surroundings.

“It’s Jared”, you mumbled breathlessly between soft moans, your body still thrumming with the anticipation of his touch.

Jensen grinned mischievously, his lips hovering just above your clit. “Answer it”, he murmured, his breath hot against your most sensitive spot.

Your eyes widened in surprise, a shiver running through you at the unexpected suggestion. “Are you serious?”, you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of shock and excitement.

Jensen’s eyes sparkled as he nodded. “Yeah”, he said, his voice a low, seductive growl. “Answer it”.

With a shaky hand, you reached for the phone, your heart racing. You swiped to answer, bringing the phone to your ear just as Jensen’s mouth found its mark again.

Jensen still didn’t use his tongue, just his lips, placing featherlight kisses. You answered the phone, your voice trembling as you tried to maintain your composure. “H-hey Jared”.

Jared chuckled on the other end of the line, his tone light and teasing. “So you’re answering his phone now, huh? Where is he?”.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as Jensen’s kisses grew more insistent. “He’s, um, he’s right here”, you managed to say, your voice breathy and uneven.

Jensen’s eyes met yours, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he continued his gentle assault, his lips never leaving you. He seemed to take pleasure in your struggle to maintain control, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Right here, huh?”, Jared’s voice was full of curiosity. “What’s he doing? Can I talk to him?”.

You fought to keep your voice steady, each kiss from Jensen sending waves of pleasure through you. “He’s a bit… busy right now”, you replied, your breath hitching. “Can I take a message?”.

Jared laughed, clearly amused. “Busy? What’s he doing that’s so important?”.

Jensen’s eyes gleamed with playful defiance as he pressed a particularly insistent kiss to your clit, making you gasp. You struggled to find your voice, the sensations overwhelming. “He’s, um, helping me with something”, you said, barely managing to get the words out.

Just then, Jensen flicked his tongue out, finally adding a new layer of sensation that made you nearly lose your grip on the phone. The intensity of his touch sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making it even harder to maintain your composure.

“Oh really?”, Jared’s voice came through the phone, still amused. “What’s he helping you with?”.

You bit your lip, your body trembling as you tried to focus. “It’s, um, kind of hard to explain”, you replied, your voice shaking.

Jensen’s tongue continued its exquisite exploration, alternating between gentle flicks and firm strokes that drove you wild. You could barely think straight, let alone keep up with the conversation.

The heat between you and Jensen intensified with every stroke of his tongue, each movement designed to bring you closer to the edge. Despite Jared’s voice still on the phone, you struggled to maintain any semblance of composure.

“It’s, uh, a project”, you managed to stammer out, your voice wavering as Jensen’s mouth worked magic on you. His fingers traced delicate patterns on your thighs, adding to the overwhelming sensations that pulsed through your body.

Jared chuckled lightly, clearly entertained by your distracted responses. “A project?”, he replied. “Sounds like quite the project”.

You could sense Jensen’s grin against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. He intensified his efforts, his tongue finding just the right rhythm that made your toes curl and your breath hitch in your throat.

“Yeah”, you managed to say, trying to focus on the conversation while Jensen’s touch pushed you closer to the brink. “A… special project”.

Jared’s laughter echoed through the phone. “Well, tell Jensen he’s a lucky guy”. he said. “He should call me when he’s ‘free’ again”.

You struggled to respond, Jensen’s skilled ministrations overwhelming your senses. “I will”, you managed to utter between gasps, your voice strained with pleasure.

Jared chuckled knowingly. “Alright then”, he said, his tone lighthearted. “Have fun with your… special project”.

Before you could reply, Jared hung up, leaving you alone with Jensen and the electrifying sensations coursing through your body. Jensen’s lips and tongue continued their tantalizing dance, each touch pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

As Jared’s voice faded from your mind, you surrendered fully to the pleasure Jensen was giving you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on as your body trembled with the intensity of your arousal. Jensen responded eagerly, his actions driven by a combination of passion and a desire to please you completely.

The room filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and soft moans, punctuated by the wet, intoxicating sounds of Jensen’s mouth on you. He brought you to the brink and held you there, expertly teasing and pleasing until you shattered into a blissful release.

With a shuddering gasp, you reached your peak, your body trembling with the force of your climax. Jensen’s movements slowed, his touch gentle and soothing as he helped you ride out the waves of pleasure washing over you.

As you came down from the euphoric high, Jensen eased himself up, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. You lay there, catching your breath, your body still tingling from the intense pleasure. When you finally managed to look at him, you sent him a playful deadpan glance, raising an eyebrow at his mischievous grin.

Jensen hovered above you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You did so well”, he teased, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe you should think about a career as an actress. You managed to keep it together pretty impressively with Jared on the phone”.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and breathless. “You’re evil”, you said, shaking your head. “That was so hard”.

Jensen chuckled, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. “But you did it”, he murmured against your mouth. “And you looked incredibly sexy doing it”.

Jensen licked his lips, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked down at you. “Think you can handle another round?”, he asked, his voice a low, seductive murmur.

Your eyes followed his gaze to his impressive erection standing proudly between the two of you. The sight sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through your body, and you felt your breath hitch in anticipation. You bit your lip, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you looked back up at him.

“Do you even have to ask?”, you replied, your voice filled with a mixture of teasing and genuine desire.

Jensen’s smirk widened, his hands gently caressing your sides as he positioned himself between your legs. “Good answer”, he said, his voice a husky whisper. He leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his body pressing against yours.

While kissing, Jensen grabbed his erection, lining himself up with your entrance. With a shaky groan against your lips, he let himself sink deep inside you, the sensation overwhelming both of you. “Fuck, (Y/N)”, he mumbled, his voice thick with pleasure.

You gasped at the feeling of him filling you completely, your body arching to meet his. Jensen paused for a moment, allowing both of you to savor the connection before he began to move.

He started with slow, deliberate thrusts, each one drawing a soft moan from your lips. His forehead pressed against yours, eyes locked in a shared moment of intimacy and passion.

Another round later, as your breathing slowed and your bodies relaxed, Jensen gently rolled to the side, pulling you close against his chest. You nestled into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. His arms wrapped around you protectively, holding you as if he never wanted to let go.

You smiled against his chest. “No cleaning me up anymore?”, you teased softly.

Jensen chuckled tiredly, his voice warm and deep. “It’s unnecessary anyway”, he mumbled, his words a mixture of affection and exhaustion.

You tilted your head up to look at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “For someone who seems to enjoy coming inside me, you never asked if I’m on the pill”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 15

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Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2

[s0phslibrary]

'til death (will not) do us part'; bakugou x reader ༚༅༚˳ . ♱ . ˳༚༅༚

content tidbits: platonic bond but i deadass think there's romantic shit going on this is peak yearning, class 2-A era, following the plot but not the full on war, ANGST, mention of character death but nobody is actually dead, scenario of bkg's death and funeral, hurt/comfort, swearing, gender neutral reader, physical affection, maybe ooc bkg but we know atp, somewhat healed platonic bkdk bond, childhood friends bkdk + reader, reader is mourning katsuki despite him not even being dead, death anxiety, fear of loss, generally lots of death talk. insomniac reader, crying (on both ends, would you look at that), please give these bitches a hug. Not proofread

word count: im not sure bc I finished this on my phone and it won’t let me copy it in bulk

A/N: I read Sweet Dreams by @janasrdhr and it lit this up in my head. I love katsuki so much this isn't funny :(( all these fics im writing are making me question things about my MHA DR and i can't tell if it's comphet or hozier level yearning. speaking of, this song is the 2nd inspiration :) it's also on spotify as a podcast, but this ver is clearer

2:23am.

You had been laying there since 10:30.

The flicker of the alarm clock was almost taunting, reminding you of every second going by that you couldn’t get back. You rolled over on your side for the hundredth time, your thoughts rolling in like a following, ruthless wave. Every word, every scenario, every possibility clawed at your brain. This was the 3d night in a row.

What if you lost them? Lost him? What if there's a catastrophic battle and you're left behind? What if you're the one taken out? What if someone doesn’t come back?

Tears pricked your eyes again, panic and strife sitting chilled in your chest. Everything felt stuck, icy, voided. It felt like you were already gone. The creaks of your mattress and your pain were the only things reminding you of your maintained mortality. But it didn’t soothe the irrational terror. You couldn't handle the idea of losing him;

The scent of flowers and carpet sat in the air, a grip of visceral pain keeping everyone in the room company. The sounds of Mitsuki's wails. Izuku beside you, distraught. Class A lined in the seats behind you, all wanting this nightmare to be over. All Might, Aizawa, and the rest of the UA staff with regretful, almost faulty expressions. And you, staring ahead at his photo. Refusing to acknowledge the casket beside it, orange and black flowers adorning it like a crown. That damn fucking photo, one you took in a candid moment. Him smiling at something you said, eyes flicking to the camera right before he snatched the phone off you. Any semblance of a secure and happy future slipping away with every heart wrenching tear.

Imagining it had your chest heaving sobs, your inner monologue pleading him to just come back. But he didn't have to. He was there, a story under you, sound asleep. You knew so, but the thought that could be taken away cut you even deeper. You had enough of its persistence.

Shakily getting up out of bed, wiping your face, you tried to remain quiet as you walked through the dorm halls, in and out of the elevator, and down another hall, until you stood in front of an all familiar door. Still sniffling, you felt guilty about the idea of waking him up. He didn't deserve to lose sleep just because you were scared. He shouldn’t have to deal with a moment of borrowed greif. But before you could step away to leave, the door opened. Katsuki stood, half asleep and disheveled, but became more alert seeing your tear stricken face.

"I'm sorry if I woke you." You said in a quiet, wobbly mumble.

"Yeah, you did. Heard your sniffling and breathing from outside. Knew it was you. What's wrong?" He asks, yawning half way through.

"Can I just come in and talk about it?" "Fucking hell, at least say what you're even here for at almost 2:30 in the morning-" "I don’t want you to die." You interrupt, the sensation of crying building back up.

He looked at you confused, but knew this was something deeper than a simple statement. He stepped aside, allowing you into the room, before closing the door and sitting with you on his bed.

He's silent for a moment, before asking "What do you mean?"

You can't get a response out, before breaking down again. More freely now that he's actually here, but it hurts more at the same time. Your breathe comes out in short gasps, head spinning. He notices, and shifts to hold you against him, in which you accept by holding onto him like if your grip even let up slightly, he would evaporate. He shushed you gently, a hand rubbing over your head. He was silent in his comfort, but concerned internally. What did you mean?

Once you had calmed slightly, despite being drained from the distress, you got out a response.

“I couldn’t sleep. And my mind started going to the possibility of if one of us got hurt in battle and died. I don’t want to leave you alone, and I don’t want to lose you. I’m so fucking scared. I hate that it could happen.”

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?? It will, at some point, on the field or not. I can’t- I can’t handle knowing that it could happen when we least expect it. Fuck, I can’t lose you.

You were right. How did he know? It would happen. You were right. And the thought stirred him too, causing him to pull you tighter.

“I know. I’m scared too. I don’t say it, but I am. I need you too.” He sighed, closing his eyes and pressing his face to your head.

“Why did it go there anyway? Your thoughts, I mean.” He asked.

“I don’t know. It just happens. It has been the last few nights.”

“This happened more than once? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t want to bother you.”

“So you let it get worse? Idiot.”

He notices that you don’t respond, and sighs. “Listen. I know I don’t know when or how we’ll die. We don’t know that. But I promise you, for fuck sake, I would go to every end of the earth if it meant keeping you safe. And if it meant keeping me with you. I don’t say things like this, but fuck, you matter to me too damn much. You always have. And you’re not- you’re not going anywhere as long as I’m around. And if I did, I’d do everything to claw my way back to you somehow. Life and death be damned, I’d get to you.”

His words make you cry harder, but it’s a mix of relief and pain. You believe him. But the idea of the hole him leaving in your heart with his absence doesn’t settle. From atop your head, you hear him letting out a shaky exhale, a small droplet onto the top of your head. He’s crying too.

“Please promise you’ll do everything to come back to me.” He whispers with a raw voice. “Promise. Regardless of where you are and why. Please come back.”

“I promise.”

He lets out another shook breath, but nods.

“I’ll be damned if I don’t do the same. Don’t ever be scared of losing me, okay? I’ll defy everything if it means you have me beside you. I can’t fuckin’ imagine leaving you behind.”

You nod again at his words, every one of them sticking to your subconscious like they were locking in.

“I am not leaving. Not now, not ever. I’m bound to you until existence itself burns up.” He murmurs.

Both of you sit in the heartache of the bittersweet declarations, the bedding over your bodies holding you like a chrysalis, each other being the new life forming within.

“I know you wont die.” You say. “Not if you can help it. But I’m still scared. I care for you too much.”

“Then care for me scared. Care for me knowing what the care is for.”

“How did you get a B in English?”

“Piss off, that was for translations.” He defends, but you’re both glad at the lightness your response gave. Your hearts beat in tandem, heavy but purposeful.

“Im sorry I made you scared to lose me.” You say.

“Don’t be. It’s mutual. That’s good. We… we know what we mean to each other.”

You nod, though not sure the exact implications of his words. But you don’t care. You still have him. You will always have him.

Sent to sleep in each other’s hold, the 3 unspoken words don’t hold the correct gravity to express what you have.

It doesn’t have to, but right as you finally fall into a silent and safe rest, you swear you can just make out the words.

Or maybe it’s just your mind telling you things again. You aren’t sure.

[jaemskitty]

Agora Hills — N.JM & you

wc: corruption kink | sexo violento | leitora virgem | muitos "inhos" e "inhas" | age gap (dentro da lei) | dilf!jaemin | virgin kink (?) | size kink (too much) | dumbfication | deve ter mais coisas, porém é isso :D

gênero: smut e somente smut

n/a: olá, tudo bem? é basicamente minha estreia aqui depois de muito tempo, então minha escrita tá, no mínimo, enferrujada então peço perdão antes de tudo por tudo e qualquer coisa :) <3 bjocas e boa leitura. NÃO DEIXE DE LER OS AVISOS!

Na Jaemin. O que falar sobre Na Jaemin? Bom, desde que entendia-se por gente ouvia esse nome e via esse homem pelos corredores de sua grande casa. Era o melhor amigo do seu pai e você cresceu os ouvindo falar sobre negócios e negociações. Cresceu os vendo viajar juntos para cada lugar dos quatro cantos desse mundo em busca de algo como..Fechar contratos? Não sabia muito bem, nunca dava a mínima na verdade.

O que sabia era que aquele homem sempre roubava seu pai, Lee Jeno, de pertinho de você. Poxa, ficava tão tristinha...Seu pai sempre tão ausente, sempre um "depois eu vejo, minha princesa" para todas as suas cartinhas feitas a mão na escolinha. Suspirava e saía para chorar até a pontinha do nariz ficar avermelhada de tanto fungar.

Só queria atenção.

Todavia fora crescendo e Jaemin continuava ali. Alguma coisa mudou. Mudou porque seu pai sempre foi acostumado a lhe corresponder de longe, mas Na Jaemin parecia sempre corresponder de perto. Ele parecia sempre por perto, sempre nos momentos certos, nas horas certas...Era tão suspeito, mas você era tão bobinha.

Bobinha. Era isso que talvez chamasse atenção do homem. Na verdade era sim, Jaemin já havia assumido a si mesmo o desvio de caráter que tinha ao desejar cegamente a filhinha de seu melhor amigo. Só não aceitava, mas você era tão linda, tão dócil e ultimamente vinha o buscando mais do que o que costumava. Jaemin também não ficava impune nessa, sempre se martirizava ao te buscar pra qualquer pretexto que fosse, só pra te ver toda lindinha em seu quarto cor de rosa. E você ficava linda nesses tons. Queria perdidamente te arruinar.

Ele queria tanto manchar esses tons de rosa bebe.

Você também não entendia nem um pouco essa necessidade que sentia da aprovação de Na Jaemin, não entendia o porque de seu corpinho pedir a presença dele 24/7 nem que fosse pra um mínimo sorriso ou boa noite sussurrado quando você passava por ele e seu pai na sala de estar, pronta e vestidinha para encontrar suas amigas de cursinho.

Na verdade não entendia nadinha sobre o que seu corpo sentia com um mísero olhar do homem mais velho sobre seu corpinho vestido e enfeitado de laços cintilantes. Era um frio que vinha da espinha e esbarrava entre suas perninhas. Corava porque desconhecia.

As vezes chegava a suspirar.

Nossa, era um sentimento tão ruinzinho quando alguma de suas amigas atrevidas perguntava mais sobre aquele homem tomando uísque na sala de sua casa ao lado de seu pai.

Como acontecia exatamente agora.

— O que vocês acham que eles estão conversando? parece tãao chato, mas ele é tão atraente...não acha, ____?

Era Yeri quem falava pelos cotovelos e você sem perceber já tava' carrancuda, respirando fundo com o queixo descasando contra a palma da mãozinha cheirando a hidratante de morangos.

— Eles estão sempre falando das mesmas coisas...E ele é um chato. — você falou baixinho, revirando os olhos e virando o rostinho em direção a grande janela de vidro que exibia a perfeita visão de seu pai e Jaemin naquela enorme sala com iluminação amarelada.

Seu corpo quase tiltou quando os olhos ambíguos do homem encontraram os seus tão rasos e indefesos. Não soube como sair daquele looping, somente quando Dahyun a cotucou.

— Meu Deus, ele tá olhando! Será que percebeu a nossa conversa? — ela parecia muito eufórica e antes que você desviasse assustada viu o Na sorrir lentamente, sacana demais enquanto levava o copo de uísque aos lábios bonitos.

Sua barriga deu um nó. Um nó gostoso. Aquela porra daquela sensação deliciosamente desesperadora.

O que poderia fazer a respeito? Não sabia, vivia aquele drama diariamente. Aquela maldita sensação melecada entre as perninhas e era sempre um alívio – ou quase – quando esfregava elas uma na outra em sua cama quentinha durante a madrugada.

E se perguntou de repente em pensamentos se o Na sentia a mesma coisa, ou se estava ficando maluca... Coisa assim. Ele nunca perceberia uma pirralha como você, mas e se talvez perguntasse? Não era uma má ideia, era? Inferno, você era tão ingênua.

Yeri estalou os dedos na frente de seu rosto e você então acordou do transe novamente, aflita sorriu para a amiga e viu que talvez já não estivesse bem para estar naquela grande varanda a noite com suas amigas.

— Alô? Amiga, tá' tudo bem? Tipo, seu pai acabou de sair daqui às pressas e você nem notou...— Yeri relatou apontando para a Ferrari de seu pai que já fazia toda a manobra para sair daquele grande terreno de sua casa.

— T-tá tudo bem, sim... Meninas, eu vou precisar entrar...P-preciso fazer algumas coisas do meu trabalho individual do curso...— não havia desculpa melhor naquele instante, sua cabeça estava um pouco sobrecarregada. Seu corpinho tava' sobrecarregado.

.

— Onde ele foi? – no fundo você sabia bem onde Lee Jeno havia ido e com toda certeza era algum caso, como de costume. Lembra-se bem do dia em que sua mamãe a deixou por conta disso e ela não pensou duas vezes e sequer olhou para trás. Sentia-se tão sozinha.

O Na então deixou o copo de vidro sobre a mesinha de centro onde também havia muito material de trabalho, papeladas e tudo mais. Por trás do grande sofá você o olhou nos olhos, aqueles olhos intensos e preguiçosos. Aquela sensação toda correndo por cada lugarzinho do seu corpo. Apertou o estofado entre os dedinhos e esperou uma resposta, mas tudo o que recebeu fora o homem mais velho batendo de levinho ao seu lado no sofá. Você travou tentando saber se era realmente aquilo que havia entendido, pois poucas as vezes havia estado tão pertinho dele.

Mordeu o lábio e esperou uma confirmação, essa que veio até mais rápido que o esperado.

— Vem aqui, lindinha, vem... Senta aqui, eu não mordo, você sabe... — havia algo sobre aquilo que não te cheirava bem e talvez fosse a maneira que entre suas perninhas latejava ou como sua nuca arrepiou, mas resolveu ignorar e caminhar quase que receosamente até onde o Na indicou.

A voz dele lhe atormentava noites a fio. Tudo sobre ele. Tudo sobre ele pairava na sua cabecinha de uma forma que talvez já fosse o estopim.

Engoliu em seco e sentou-se ao lado dele. Os pezinhos com meias soquete estavam no ar devido ao seu minúsculo tamanho e percebeu isso porque se sentiu tão reduta ao lado dele, principalmente quando ele te mirou. O cheiro dele te deixou um pouco tonta, então encostou-se no assento fofinho com aqueles olhinhos de boneca brilhantes em direção ao mesmo. Aquele homem ficaria louco e no laudo estaria escrito seu belo nome.

E não, não era somente você...Jaemin só queria te por no colo e foder cada cantinho do seu corpo jovial. Sua aura virginal o enlouquecia e ele tinha certeza que ver você corada e choramingando entre gemidos seria demais para ele.

Mordeu a boquinha coberta de gloss de cerejas e mirou o rosto do homem ao seu lado, balançando as perninhas você suspirou lentinho descendo por toda a feição rígida de Jaemin...Desde aquelas sobrancelhas harmoniosas até o pomo-de-adão ressaltado.

— Onde está o papai...? — sua voz era baixinha, quase lacrimando e não sabia se de tesão ou de carência. Talvez ambos. Queria tanto saber que sabor teria a boca daquele a sua frente e ficou como uma pimenta, avermelhada, somente em cogitar selar os lábios do melhor amigo de seu pai, então teve que – por impulso – desviar rapidamente, mirando as próprias coxas sob a sainha plissada e reparando o quão prensadas elas pareciam.

Jaemin percebera, ele sabia... Ele sabia de absolutamente tudo. Ele sempre soube, pois você era burrinha, era burrinha e descuidada...Sempre mordendo os lábios ou com aquelas perninhas esfregando uma na outra e ele se perguntou qual sabor seu melzinho teria. Puta merda, ele jurou que poderia ficar louco. Sua mente era seu maior martírio e ele estava pertinho de pedir arrego como um covarde. Ou não, veja bem...ele tentou por tanto tempo.

Jaemin era um homem podre por te querer tanto assim? Por querer te fazer choramingar enquanto acostuma como seu pau grosso indo tão fundo? Por Deus, ele só queria te ouvir implorar para ter calma. Fechou o punho e passou a mão desde o rosto até os cabelos, cansado ele afrouxou a gravata e isso não passou despercebido sob seus olhinhos.

A tensão era palpável e qualquer um perceberia a metros de distância.

— Seu pai precisou sair e bom, como sempre somos eu e você, pirralha.

A voz rouca lhe fez apertar ainda mais as coxas miúdas e ele assistia tudo se perguntando até onde iria sua conduta e de como Jeno repetiu inúmeras vezes um "cuida da minha menina"...Pois bem, ele cuidaria muito bem.

Engoliu porque já esperava aquela resposta, mas não esperava o que viria a seguir dela;

— Vamos dar uma volta? Comer alguma coisa, hm? — ele sugeriu tirando alguns fios de cabelo de cima do seu gloss, pondo atrás de sua delicada orelha. Seu coração parecia que iria explodir dentro do peito e seus olhinhos miraram aquele cuidado.

— Eu e você, senhor Na? — ele sorriu tão próximo ouvindo aquilo sair de sua boquinha.

— Você e eu. — ele assentiu devagar quase bêbado.

.

Eram por volta das duas da manhã e você estava dentro do carro importado de Na Jaemin em um rumo que sequer conhecia. Ele era bonito em absolutamente tudo o que fazia, mas dirigindo havia lhe feito quase explodir com aquelas sensações conflitantes. Algo sobre a madrugada ao lado de Na Jaemin enquanto comia seu fast food no banco do carona.

Era folgada apesar de tudo, folgada e abusada e provocava aquele homem de formas indiretas, quase inocente. Jaemin tinha a paciência de um monge e já poderia subir aos céus somente pela sua resistência dos deuses aquele corpinho jovial que pedia uma surra de pica. Ele estava por um fio e suas perninhas jogadas ali na visão do homem enquanto seus pezinhos ainda de meias descansavam preguiçosos sobre o painel de seu carro não ajudava tanto assim em sua sanidade.

Porra, quem ele queria enganar? Valia a pena perder Jeno e sua amizade de longa data a troco de comer sua filha? Valia.

As ruas estavam calmas, os sinais vermelhos eram ultrapassados e você sorria encantada por isso pois, talvez, aquilo fosse a coisa mais ilegal que já havia feito em 19 anos de sua vida. Seu centro não parava de latejar um instante, nem o frio daquela noite era o suficiente para a quentura que sentia perto de Na Jaemin.

— Senhor Na? — sussurrou audível e balançou uma perninha para lá e para cá sem se importar se estava de saia ou não pois seu corpinho pedia e te guiava aquele comportamento devasso perto do homem.

Era inexplicável e ele percebia isso.

— uh? — ele perguntou em um grunhido, observando a rua com aquela camisa meio aberta no peitoral marcado e você quase esquecera o que queria perguntar.

— Senhora Na, o senhor já é bem vivido, não é? — perguntou docilmente ingênua e aquilo deixou o homem em um estado sorridente e quase em êxtase.

Sua ingenuidade o deixava de pau duro, era essa a verdade. Duro. Duro pra caralho. pronto para afundar e fazer um estrago em seu pequeno corpo e ele se perguntava se você aguentaria aquilo tudo. Era perversa, a mente de Na Jaemin era perversa.

Ele apenas assentiu ainda guiando o carro pelas avenidas de Agora Hills na maior tranquilidade do mundo – pelo menos por fora.

— E-eu tenho uma dúvida e...Bom, eu não tenho ninguém...— e percebeu que era mais solitária do que imaginava.

Então ele te olhou depois de tanto evitar e não podia mentir para si mesmo que você daquele jeito tão exposto não tava' o deixando quase de bolas azuis. Por qual razão tinha que parecer tão errado? Ele era mais velho, bem mais velho mas e daí?

— Pode falar, pirralha...o Nana pode tentar te ajudar, você sabe que sim...

E não haveria outro momento ou outra forma. Era algo normal, não era? Seu tesão fodido por aquele homem.

— Nana, o que é-... bom... eu não sei, sinto algo estranho quando t-tô com o senhor e-...

O homem freou calmamente, mas por dentro ele estava em uma euforia inexplicável.

— Estranho? — e você assentiu. — Estranho como, lindinha? Diz pro nana o que você sente e como sente, diz...

Você ainda segurava o milkshake mas não consumia, fechou então as perninhas e pressionou o quando pôde buscando alívio pra aquela sensação que só piorava. Os olhinhos aguados mirou o homem mais velho ao seu lado. Jaemin observando tudo tocou ali, tocou sua coxa de forma cínica, te encorajando.

— Formigando... As vezes lateja e eu não sei como fazer isso passar, Nana! entre as minhas perninhas... e todas as noites eu sinto isso... então eu fecho elas e procuro algum alívio...alguma coisa...q-qualquer coisa, senhor n-na... — apertou o milshake nas mãozinhas bem cuidadas e mirou a rua vazia. Seu peito subia e descia tão rudemente e não sabia como controlar, mas também não havia tanto pudor afinal era um universo de coisas sujas que não conhecia nem a pontinha do iceberg.

Jaemin mirou-te devagar, perspicaz pois cada passo a seguir poderia ser incerto, porque no fundo no fundo Jaemin não era um completo filho da puta, ele sabia que aquilo não era moralmente correto apesar de sua maioridade. Meu deus, você era apenas uma boneca. Uma bonequinha...E ele estava duro. Engoliu em seco e em um silencio torturante guiou o carro outra vez, em uma velocidade absurda.

Sua adrenalina estava a mil e se perguntava se havia sido uma boa ideia ter exposto aquilo, por mais curiosa que fosse poderia ter guardado um pouco mais para si. Algo sobre a expressão rigidamente seria do Na te deixava apreensiva, apreensiva e ainda mais meladinha ali. Ele estava indo de volta a sua casa, conhecia o caminho.

— S-senhor Na...fala alguma coisa, e-eu...— procurou formular alguma coisa, e quando ele fizera a curva para sua residência tocou sua perna novamente, então a diferença de tamanhos ficou mais aparente e aquelas coisas crescendo cada vez mais dentro de si.

Jaemin mirou suas coxas macias e pensou o quão sua mão poderia marcar aquela pele bonita, doce e virgem. Seu cacete marcava na calça social e você percebeu, corada pelas inumeras sensações se perguntou o que estava acontecendo. O que em si havia o deixado daquela maneira.

Doía tanto nele quanto doía em você?

O milkshake havia perdido o sabor, a noite parecia ainda mais fria tendo em consideração seu corpinho febril e só queria que aquela tortura passasse. Queria respostas. Queria resoluções. Queria Na Jaemin. Queria beijá-lo e...queria tantas coisas que seu corpinho pedia. Queria atar um nó aquele homem. Queria expor a cada amiga sua o quão aquele homem poderia ser seu. Chegava a suspirar...

E Na Jaemin queria você, porra como ele queria...

Queria exibir você tanto quanto você queria.

A boneca dele. A bonequinha de Na Jaemin.

E ele iria. Foda-se, ele iria.

Jaemin estacionou o carro em um solavanco e você segurou-se o mirando curiosamente amedrontada. Antes que pudesse questionar ele havia saído e dado a volta, estourando a camisa nos antebraços abriu a porta do passageiro te puxando pelo bracinho deixando ali a primeira marca do dia. Praticamente te arrastou para dentro de casa e seu corpo arrepiava incompreendida se de frio ou...por aquilo. Não relutou, apenas balbuciou algumas coisas que nem você mesma estava ouvindo. Tinha o irritado? Por qual motivo aquilo te excitava tanto?

Ele era tão forte. Só deu por si quando Jaemin subiu as escadas até o seu quarto onde a fez sentar-se na cama e sentir-se tão miúda diante de tanta fúria.

Daquela posição poderia ver todo o corpo forte do Na, e meu Deus ele era perfeito. O peitoral marcado em uma formosa harmonia com seus braços enormes que chegava a apertar o tecido da camisa social... Os antebraços a mostra e as veias correndo até suas mãos e logo ali embaixo a calça preta marcava o pau grande e fodidamente duro.

Se pegou suspirando alto e os olhinhos presos ali naquela protuberância; esfregou as coxas e então mirou o homem nos olhos novamente. Tão linda, você era tão linda, tão miúda, tão perfeita...Jaemin iria acabar com você e sentia dó.

— Mostra pra' mim como você se alivia, mostra...— ele então ditou rouco, a voz embebida de tesão. Os dedos foram até a própria camisa, abrindo com uma pressa controlada. — Mostra pro Nana, boneca...

Você engoliu o que parecia espinhos e corada prensou as coxas uma na outra, esfregando devagar e precisa enquanto suspirava e mirava o homem ali em pé lhe observando quebrar, derreter, despedaçar a olho nu. Totalmente exposta e por mais que não conhecesse nada do universo adulto sentia que aquilo era humilhante, no mínimo, mas a deixava mais molhada, a deixava mais afoita por um atrito que fosse na sua bucetinha pois somente suas coxas esfregando não era mais suficiente.

Mordeu o lábio e faltou soluçar, os olhinhos já formando lágrimas prazerosas e de puro desespero. Jaemin franziu o cenho ao abrir a camisa inteira, nunca tirando os olhos dos seus. Nunca deixando de reparar em como você era burrinha e não conhecia o próprio corpinho. Ele sentiu dó de imaginar como você se aliviava, porque àquilo não parecia surtir efeito algum.

Você esfregava e esfregava, apertava e apertava. os pezinhos roçando devido ao atrito e aquelas malditas meias ainda estavam ali. Jaemin viu a primeira lágrima escorrer de seus lindos olhinhos quando ele tocou a fivela do cinto e desfez. Segurou um próprio grunhido e apertou o cacete entre os dedos ao te ver desesperada.

Desespero era sim uma boa palavra.

— N-nana...! — suplicou baixinho e o soluço finalmente saiu. se você estava devastada com absolutamente nada, quem dirá quando ele te tocasse de verdade. — N-nana me a-ajuda...e-eu... meu D-deus...Nana faz i-isso passar...

Era muito tesão para alguém tão compacta. Ele sorriu maldoso te vendo desmoronar e sentiu que precisava de mais...

— É assim que se alivia pensando em mim? — você apenas assentiu e ele já estava com a calça social aberta.

Jaemin não era macio e infelizmente não era agora que iria ser. Ele tinha um carinho especial por ti, talvez até amasse, mas a sua imundicie sobressaia afinal ele fantasiava sobre como te destruir seria prazeroso. Porra, como ele sonhava...e estava literalmente acontecendo.

Sua bucetinha estava tão molhadinha e bem no seu ventre uma contração gostosinha acontecia e então você tocou ali. Nada passava despercebido por Jaemin, seu olhar preguiçoso era perspicaz e matador.

— Porra, você é tão linda, boneca... — a mão do Na tocou sua bochecha e foi quase instintivo virar o rostinho e deixar um beijinho ali, fechando os olhinhos sentiu o cheiro das mãos masculinas, o mirando após sair de sua viagem pessoal.

— Sou a sua boneca, nana? — sua vozinha estava mais manhosa que o normal.

— Sim...uma boneca...linda...perfeita para mim. Vai pra' pertinho das suas pelúcias e deita, hm?

Devagar seu corpinho mexeu-se até ali, associando lentamente cada informação. Deitou a cabeça contra um dos seus grandes ursinhos, sentindo o cheirinho de baunilha das próprias coisas.

Seu quarto era enfeitado em tons pasteis e aquilo estranhamente enlouquecia o homem que agora subia também em sua cama. Aquele contraste imoral estava deixando ambos fora de si, ainda mais quando ele abriu suas perninhas e ficou ali ajoelhado entre estas, suspirando pesado e apertando suas carnes nos dedos grandes e bonitos.

Você era menor ainda quando ele se sobressaia dessa forma, totalmente palpável e nada era dificuldade para Jaemin em seu corpinho.

— Eu vou arruinar você...

— h-hm? — questinou e sentiu a palma da mão quente de Jaemin bem em seu pescoço, bem como um aviso e seu coração errou uma batida.

— Quieta. Shhh...— avisou mirando você tão de perto e aquilo te arrepiou, só nao mais que o beijo que ele lhe dera em seguida.

Puta que pariu, ele realmente havia te beijado.

Jaemin suspirou alto ao te ouviu grunhir tentando acompanhar aquele ósculo. Era tudo completamente novo e tão bom. A língua daquele homem fazia sua bucetinha latejar e seus choramingos a deixava com a passagem totalmente livre para ele te engolir e foder sua boquinha com a língua.

— Cadela...! — Jaemin rosnou contra sua boca e chupou sua linguinha antes mesmo que contestasse, rasgando com facilidade sua blusinha de cetim caro.

O tecido rosa rasgando a assustou, mas foi tão bom quanto aquele xingamento.

A mão do homem saiu de seu pescocinho até sua nuca e a guiou outra vez em mais um beijo molhado, descendo desde seu pequeno lábio até seu colo quente e exposto.

A boca de Jaemin era quente como lava e sentir ele próximo de seus peitinhos estava a deixando ansiosa.

— S-senhor N-na...! — a voz dengosa fez o pau do homem pulsar e uma das mãos agarrar seu peitinho direito com fúria quase machucando, mas era exatamente isso que ele queria.

Não respondera, apenas a olhou e iniciou uma sucção em seu biquinho endurecido. O homem estava nos céus tanto quanto você. Sua boca abriu-se em um gemido perdido e Jaemin poderia jurar que era o paraíso, um combo simplesmente perfeito de mamar em seus peitinhos e te ver suplicando por isso. Seus dedinhos subindo nos cabelos da nuca do homem mais velho ali, quase cobrindo seu corpinho inteiro com o próprio.

— p-por favor...por favor...— Pediu com todo seu ser por mais porque ao mesmo tempo que atiçava seu centro aquilo curava. Era a primeira vez na vida que sentia algo verdadeiro.

Abriu-se de fato como uma cadela, abrigando aquele homem ali sentindo-o chupar seus biquinhos como se não já estivessem sensibilizados demais, como se não estivessem vermelhinhos e pontudinhos demais. Jaemin não queria parar por nada nesse mundo, então simultaneamente tocou sua pequena buceta coberta pela calcinha de algodão e porra, estava encharcada, pingando... Ele mordeu devagarinho seu biquinho esquerdo para descontar aquela ansiedade nivelada em luxúria e seu gemidinho o destruiu.

E seus olhos encontram-se.

.

Seus peitinhos estavam destruídos e sua calcinha já havia sido rasgada da mesma forma que sua blusinha. Agora tudo o que tinha em seu corpinho eram suas meias e a mini-saia plissada.

Jaemin segurava o pau pesado entre os dedos e bombeava toda aquela pré-porra entre os dedos. Grunhiu mirando a sua entradinha rosada e melecada completamente exposta para ele e exclusivamente dele.

O homem rosnou esfregando com força contra seu botãozinho, misturando a pré-porra ao seu melzinho. O nervosismo fazia um mix com sua vontade intensa daquilo e resultava em sua bucetinha praticamente jorrando.

— N-nana...— pediu baixinho mordendo o dedinho, chamando por aquele homem que esfregava o cacete em você com toda sua vontade.

Ele era tão lindo e aquilo parecia surreal. Queria que o mundo inteiro soubesse que estava prestes a ser dele. Queria se gabar. Sentia-se de fato a boneca de Na Jaemin.

Se seu pai sonhasse ao menos com isso...Porra, como Jaemin era sujo. Imundo. Perverso.

E você amava isso mais que tudo.

Arreganhada ali você se perguntou se aquilo tudo caberia dentro de si, tendo em vista que estava tao sensibilizada pelo orgasmo que o na havia lhe dado com os dedos. porra, ele ia tão fundo e te fazia abrir-se inteira so com aqueles olhos.

Olhava quietinha e hipnotizada para aquele pau...tão grande, grosso...melado e avermelhado... as veias saltavam e pulsavam. Jaemin parecia depender daquilo...os cabelos grudados na testa suada e gotas desciam por suas temporas.

Perfeito. Queria lamber ele inteiro, mas tudo o que conseguia era mira-lo como uma puta burra. Ofegante.

Jaemin sorriu sacana e dera uma primeira investida, sentindo sua entradinha tão fechada resistir expulsando-o, então voltou a esfregar.

— Porra...tão apertada...como vou fazer caber isso tudinho aqui dentro, hm? — ele era imundo e tinha uma boca imunda. Grunhiu manhosa também imaginando. Suadinha você chupou o próprio indicador o olhando com os olhinhos lacrimados. — Acabei de dedar essa bucetinha, boneca...sabe que o nana tem que entrar, não sabe?

Assentiu e ele forçou-se para dentro, rosnando grosseiro ao adentrar a cabecinha bem ali. Ele te ouviu choramingando e barrou sua tentativa de fechar as perninhas, segurando com as mãos ásperas.

— Nananinanao...onde tá' sua obediência? Abre as pernas.

— D-doi...Nana...

— Abre. as. pernas. — e ele te abriu como se fosse nada enquanto usava de sua voz profunda. Você soluçou e o viu posicionar-se perfeitamente para foder até mesmo sua alma. — Você me pediu e eu vou te ajudar...se oferece dentro do meu carro como uma vadia mimada e carente e agora simplesmente quer fechar essas perninhas lindas...

Segurou sua bochecha apenas pra te da um leve solavanco para o lado e socar os dedos fundo em sua garganta enquanto se força pra dentro do seu cantinho apertado e úmido. Grunhiu agarrando as pelúcias acima de sua cabeça ao sentir aquele homem lhe tirar totalmente a pureza de uma vez.

O tamanho de Jaemin inteiro entrando ali, esticando sua bucetinha a todo custo, fodendo seu espacinho e reivindicando o lugar dele. Jaemin gemia rouco a cada centímetro abrigado e naquela posição tão exposta só se deu conta de seu limite quando ele socou até o último centímetro e finalmente sentiu o colinho de seu útero. Cheia, completamente cheia. Franziu o cenho com os olhinhos cheios e a boca lotada dos dedos de Jaemin enquanto levava uma de suas mãos até o abdômen do homem tão próximo de si, o avisando que era demais para si.

Ele sorrira e tirou sem nenhum esforço, girando os quadris e suspirando de olhos fechados com seu interior quentinho quase o esmagando.

— Tão miúda...minha boneca, tão pequenina...agora não é mais uma mocinha...já era...agora é minha...minha cadelinha burra...olha o que você fez... — ele saiu lentamente e voltou com intensidade, arruinando seu interior dando adeus a sua virgindade. Você sentiu a lágrima descer num misto de sensações. Estava no céu e no inferno ao mesmo tempo. — fodendo com o melhor amigo do seu pai...dentro do seu quarto...pra onde vai a sua honra, hm? p-porra como aperta, bebezinha...

Ele grunhiu impulsionou o quadril novamente te moldando inteira. Se sentia cheia, completamente cheia de pau. perguntou-se como conseguiu leva-lo, porem sempre que ele batia lá percebia que ele era demais para si. Queria ser uma boa menina, queria levar tudo.

Te segurar quietinha enquanto os quadris fortes dele desciam a pancada contra os seus não era nada demais, você era mais que maleável e não era nada para aqueles braços enormes que te mantinham abertinha.

Revirou os olhinhos e não conseguia expor nada além de choramingos encobertos de suplicas incompreensíveis. Completamente burra. Jaemin socava e socava e socava com tanta vontade que se perdia completamente sem perceber a força usada, mas aquele homem sabia o que fazer.

Os cabelos suados e agora todo o peitoral bem como encoberto de arranhões. Jaemin rosnou e o manteve dentro te vendo soltar um gemido mudo, e ele sorriu puxando seu lábio numaa mordida.

— Tão bobinha...tão burrinha...apertada...uma bucetinha tão boa de destruir...eu já comi tantas mulheres na minha vida, ____...mas nenhuma delas tinha essa buceta de ninfeta gostosa que você tem...porra! — uma pancada relativamente forte teria a tirado do lugar se não fossem as mãos fortes do Na a mantendo ali.

E ele voltou com vontade, sentindo que não duraria tanto assim e você não estava diferente, porque a cabeça do pau de Jaemin atingia repetidamente seu lugarzinho alarmante naquela posição e queria por tudo sentir aquilo outra vez, ainda mais cheia daquele homem.

— N-nana...m-me destroi...por f-favor..— suplicou sem pensar segurando o rosto suado do homem e o viu ofegar, assistiu cada expressão prazerosa daquele canalha enquanto contraia contra a grossura do mesmo.

— a-ahn...n-nana...— chamava. suplicava. pedia...manhava.

Ele fechou os olhos enquanto movimentava o quadril e os sons cada vez mais melados indicava que ambos estavam próximos do que seria o fim. Jaemin era um homem resistente e sentiu sua bucetinha apertar, mostrando que estava gozando e todo seu corpinho tremelicou sob o dele. A sensibilidade á mil e seus gemidos finos e alarmantes enquanto ele perseguia o próprio fim.

Iria ser o bom filho da puta que era, iria encher seu útero. Iria inundar. Guardou aquela porra por tanto tempo pra sua menininha. Jaemin enterrou o rosto bem na curva de seu pescocinho e gemeu enquanto acelerou e com forca desmedida estocou sua bucetinha ardida.

Não aguentava mais, estava sensível. Era dolorido na mesma medida que era gostoso. Suas perninhas balançando e seu corpinho no mesmo ritmo agressivo daquele homem por cima de você. Sua bucetinha sofria toda a ira de Na Jaemin.

Merda, tantas noites ele fantasiou com isso...

— A-ah, caralho...! — ele clamou e você gritou manhosa quando ele bateu outra vez em seu colo, contraindo.

Cada vez mais bruto e seu corpo dava sinais de que talvez fosse demais.

— n-nana...! p-papai...! papai...— e aí foi o fim daquele pobre homem.

Ele enterrou-se em seu canalzinho e nem se importou em perceber que talvez machucasse, mas tinha percebido sua tendência a gostar daquilo. Jaemin deu a melhor esporrada de sua vida...gozou tanto que era possível sentir cada pulsada dele dentro de você. Gemeu longamente manhosa enquanto se apertava inteira naquela dorzinha gostosa que era te-lo inteiro enterrado dentro de si e teve seu terceiro orgasmo.

A respiração ofegante de ambos denunciava que aquilo havia sido bem mais que intenso...Estava como Jaemin prometeu que te deixaria; destruída.

n/f: sinta-se a vontade para comentar e críticas construtivas serão bem vindas nas minhas ask ou chat :)) qualquer comentário maldoso será ignorado e apagado. xoxo.

[wakeofearth]

LEATHER GLOVES, thinking about your boyfriend while lying on the bed was a mistake, a good one. pairing: leon x gn! reader tags: gn!masturbation, gloves, established relationship, no use of y/n, smut, porn without plot wc: 1.2k

You couldn't help it. Every time Leon was away because of a mission, a part of yours was left uncompleted. You knew he was busy, and it was his job—just like you were busy with yours—and you couldn't stop missing him.

Missing his words, his touch, his face—especially when he looks at you like you were the reason why the sun rises. You always lose yourself when you are looking into his eyes. How could he look at you and make your heart feel like it was going to jump out of your chest? You weren't sure—the only thing you were sure of was how much you missed him. You can't get him out of your mind. Your heart does kick-flip when you are just hugging or talking—even when he is talking about random things, like how he cleans his guns or what he did when he wasn't next to you. He has this pullover over you; you were under his spell. You could just sit there and watch his pretty face for hours. Everything about him was precious. Even the way he laughs at his lame jokes makes your heart melt.

Every time you go to the movies, you shove your hands on your lap—so you won't try to touch him until he grabs it—and see how his thumb caresses yours while he gives you a little smile on his lips before his focus moves to the screen again. Feeling his fingertips teasing your hand sends a shiver down your spine, making you let out a shaky breath from your lips. He was fully aware of the effect of his touch. But he wasn't that much different from you. It was just a small contact, but the feeling was the opposite. At the end of the movie, your mind always ends up with thoughts about him instead of what you saw on the screen.

You weren't sure why you couldn't stop thinking about him—the only thing you were sure of was how much you missed him. You can't get him out of your mind. You should get used to feeling the emptiness of the bed—you were in a relationship with him for nearly a year.

As your mind wandered to thoughts of Leon, you couldn't help but feel a deep ache in your chest. The emptiness of the bed only served as a constant reminder of his absence. You yearned for his touch, his presence, and the way he made you feel alive. But you knew he was busy, even though he wanted to be with you. He had always been dedicated to his work, and you admired him for that. However, the longing for him grew stronger with each passing hour. You knew he would make his way out of the tired and gruesome missions, but your mind couldn’t stop wondering about the possibilities. Dating with Leon means having ups and downs—having “what if” all the time inside your mind, no matter the hour or place.

You just wanted to cuddle with him while you were sitting on the couch, with a warm blanket over you. Was it too much to ask, desiring a  normal  life? You could always watch him talk about the movies. Maybe he could be a critic in another life; that was the kind of thing you thought while you got lost in his face. A smile would be carved into your lips, with your head tilted to the side. You love how his hands move while he explains the camera shots they used or the importance of the coloring in that specific scene. You’d just nod your head, not understanding a shit about it, but he was happy. And that was the only thing that mattered.

Oh, you could imagine him watching you cook something or even prepare a snack. He would act like you just hung the moon, and he loved hugging you from the back, your back touching his neck while he planted kisses on your neck. You would warn him by saying his name with a stern tone while he just laughed off.

Desperate to feel a connection, you found yourself seeking solace in the familiar texture of leather. Sitting on his side of the bed, you ran your fingers over his pillow, hugging it, trying to recreate the sensation of Leon's presence. Feeling a mix of frustration and desire, you couldn't resist the pull any longer. Your thoughts turned into more intimate actions. With a deep breath, you decided to take matters into your own hands,  quite literally . You grabbed Leon's leather gloves from the drawer, shoving your fingers inside the leather.

You slowly undressed, the cool air kissing your bare skin as you made your way back to the bed. Lying down, you let your hands roam over your body, tracing the curves and contours that Leon knew so well. The memories of his touch flooded your mind, driving you to seek pleasure in his absence. As the need intensified, you couldn't resist the temptation any longer. Your hand found its way between your thighs, fingers slipping inside, exploring your desires. The sensations sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, drawing you closer to the edge.

You could feel his lips brushing your skin, planting kisses on your flesh while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. A murmur escaped your lips, calling out his name, even though you knew he wouldn't be able to hear your pleas. Your back arched against the soft surface of the blankets, your heavy breathing filling the room. You got so used to feeling his hands all over you, and he started to know your body better than you. You weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not right now, not when your body and mind were yearning for him.

At that moment, your mind was consumed with a mix of longing and pleasure. Each stroke of your fingers mirrored the rhythm of your racing heartbeat. You imagined Leon's hands, his fingers, and his lips, all of them caressing you with an intensity that matched your own. The bed was covered with your and Leon's scent, creating a more intimate experience for you. Your chest moved up and down, your fingers working on yourself at a methodical pace while your free hand wandered around your body. As your pleasure built, you couldn't help but let out a moan, the sound filling the empty room. It was a desperate plea, a silent call to him, hoping that somehow, in that vast distance between you, he would feel your desire .

You just wanted to feel him between your arms, filling the space.  Fuck , your mind couldn’t stop playing the memories of him cuddling you after he came back to you. Your arms stretched out, and a nice and warm place was in front of you— just for him . A reminder to him, having a reason to come back home, to you. Your arms would circle against his waist, pulling him close until he had to question if he could breathe. Your fingers would move around his body, his face finding the crook of your neck. Your fingers would play with his dark-blonde hair, saying how proud you are of him and how much you love him. You just wanted to say those things again and again until he fell asleep in your bed. Oh, how you missed him. Every cell of your body was burning to feel him against you.

But even as the waves of ecstasy crashed over you, the emptiness in your heart remained. The physical release only served as a temporary distraction from the ache that lingered deep within.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Curtis and Honey Autumn This or That 🍂

Week Eight: Thrift Shop or Library

Summary- Short Drabble. Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. Your school day is done and you are taking a few moments of peace and quiet to enjoy the library.

Warnings- Curtis is a menace.

A/N- LAST TWO DRABBLES! wow, this was so much fun to do and I loved these small snippets in their everyday life. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did. And if you guys would like to see another series similar to this one in the future, let me know. (for any of my pairings, doesn't have to be Curtis and Honey) Again! Thank you so much for everything, you all are absolutely the best.

Curtis and Honey This or That Masterlist

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

You hummed, happy with your little quiet bubble in the schools library. The kids were headed home at the end of the day and you had planned on taking the last bit of afternoon to jump start your next science course for your students . 

Curtis already knew you would be late getting out having told him as he was headed out the door for work. So you were soaking in the sensation of being around all these books, getting lost in the endless shelves available to you. Endless book spines were calling your name with titles, some familiar, some not. Once in a while, you would pull one out, cracking it open to browse its contents. Like an old friend greeting you once again.

From somewhere the libraries door opened and boots on the linoleum sounded, but you ignored it, not paying attention to a building that was always sounding like banging doors and shuffling feet. You had learned a long time ago to tune out such noises.

It wasn’t till you heard a gruff rumble and saw a large hand brace against the shelf by your head did you pay attention, twisting around to see Curtis right behind you. He must have showered cause he had changed between now and when you saw him leave that morning, his typical work uniform gone for a forest green button-up plaid and black jeans. “Didn’t even hear me say your name, full teacher mode? Next time I will have to call you Miss.Y/L/N.” He chuckled, a warm calloused hand coming up to cup your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss. 

Fresh mint and the masculine taste of Curtis filled your senses, getting lost in the feeling of plush lips and slight roughness from his beard, you let your hands slide up his chest to wrap around his neck, sighing happily into his kiss.

Now this combo, browsing books and getting to feel Curtis step in that much closer, his hard body warm as it started to pin you in place, you could be okay with this. 

“I don’t think Miss Y/L/N is allowed this much PDA in the library.” You hissed against his mouth before taking another kiss. Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him in closer. His hips pressed tightly forward, pressing you back firmly against the bookshelf. 

“What about my Pretty Girl?” A tilt of his head had his mouth trailing your jawline, tone deep and graveled as he gave you all these little sensations that had you breathing heavier. “She want this PDA?” 

“Oh yes, very much so.” You sighed while letting your head tilt back to let him have more access to you. You felt his hands heavily trace your curves, flexing his hold where your body was a little extra till his hands landed on your ass, really grabbing a hold there and lifting you a bit. 

“You drive me fucking insane when you’re all in your teacher mode. Legs around me Honey.” He growled as he went back to your mouth, keeping you from being able to protest him lifting you. Your legs swung around his waist, ankles locking in the small of his back to keep him from letting you go. “Fuck you're so fucking perfect.” He groaned as he pressed against your core, making himself grind against your clit. Just the right amount of pressure made a soft cry rise up into his mouth, clutching at him. “That’s right Sweet Girl, feels good doesn’t it.” 

It did, you couldn’t help the little rock of your hips at the sensation as you continued kissing him, panting against each other heatedly. The library just melded away, like you completely forgot that anyone could walk in on you two making out and grinding against each other. 

“Again, please?” You whined needing it again and Curtis obliged while biting your shoulder, his hip pushing into you, now his erection throbbing against you while grinding against your clit. The rough fabric a barrier between the two of you was making you so damn sensitive, aching for more. 

You felt seconds away from going further when voices sounded nearby, some of your colleagues were discussing their days when you two froze. 

Curtis pressed his hand against your mouth to keep the squeak of surprise muffled while he started to ease back. 

You dropped your legs to land on your toes and loosened your hold, looking down between you two. “Curtis.” You whispered while he straightened your clothes out. “You gotta stay behind me.” 

He groaned, his gaze heated still. “Shit Honey, don’t put those images in my head.” He huffed while you stifled a giggle, turning him to face the bookshelf instead, hiding the bulge in his pants. You snapped out a book and flipped it open quickly. 

“Quick, pretend you're reading this.” You just handed him a copy of Matilda by Roald Dahl and that made him arch a brow at you, clearly stating he was doubting your plan. But he flipped it open and skimmed his eyes over the words, pretending it was fascinating. 

Seconds away, they were just about to go around the corner and stumble on you and Curtis. You angled yourself beside Curtis, grabbing your own book from the shelf and were ready to cut off the teachers. 

You felt Curtis next to you, nose in his book, with his shoulders shaking, trying not to burst into laughter. And then they crested the corner, you and him hiding your faces in books while trying not to laugh.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Discede!

Witchy Wednesday, October 25, 2023

Fic-tober Masterlist

Heart Set on Amulets Universe Masterlist

Summary: You and Dalton go to Five Keys, New Mexico, to get answers about your training as a witch.

Warnings: fluff, Discede is Latin for "Be Gone" (teleportation spell from Buffy the Vampire Slayer), spoilers for Insidious: The Last Key (2018) and The Red Door (2023), witch jokes and references to movies with witches. 2.2k+ words

A/N: This might be my favorite Heart Set on Amulets fic I've written. I highly recommend reading the others (at least 'Heart Set on Amulets') first, if you haven't already! Please let me know what you think and enjoy!! :)

Pacing alone in your apartment, you feel your desperation growing. The last time you talked to Specs, he seemed confident that he’d find something soon and get back to you, but that was weeks ago.

“Can I come in?” Dalton asks, standing in your doorway and dangling your keys. “These were in the lock still.”

You nod and thank him as you take your keys and put them away. “Sorry, I’m just distracted. Specs hasn’t updated me in weeks.”

Dalton feels some recognition when you say ‘Specs’ but can’t place it. He hugs you tightly and rubs your back as he promises everything will work out.

“In the meantime, we could watch a movie,” Dalton suggests gently.

“We’re not watching Practical Magic again,” you say. He points at you, and you rush to add, “Or Hocus Pocus.”

“But you put a spell on me,” he says with a pout.

“Any other movie, Dalton.”

Dalton reluctantly agrees before pulling you onto the couch and turning your TV on. Just as you start to relax against his side, your phone beeps. You rush to grab it and gasp as you read the new message:

I found the tapes. -Specs

“Everything alright?” Dalton asks, leaning up to sit behind you.

“Yeah, yeah, great actually,” you answer, turning to face him. “Specs found the recordings of my training sessions.” You glance down to read a second message and add, “And another amulet, almost identical to yours.”

“So, New Mexico?”

“We don’t have to go right now.”

Dalton rubs his thumb over your cheekbone as he says, “You want answers, and I want to help. So, we go when you’re ready. Even if that’s right now.”

You smile as you lean against his hand, and he takes that as an invitation to kiss you. He brings his other hand to your jaw and feels a surge like a love spell coursing through his veins, starting where his skin rests on yours.

Dalton pulls back first and says, “I guess we should start packing.”

He makes no move to leave, insisting on helping you pack before you both go to his dorm to get his stuff. While you gather your things, you speculate about what Elise recorded and tracked regarding your abilities.

Dalton cuts you off to ask, “Wait- Elise? The woman in the videos about the Further?”

You shrug and reach for an old scrapbook, flipping to a picture of you and Elise the last time you saw her. Dalton confirms it’s the same Elise.

“My mom said that when I was in the coma- the Further- she was instrumental to pulling me out. She helped my dad when he was a kid and tried to help him again nine years ago, but it didn’t end well,” Dalton explains.

“The demon that possessed your dad is the one who…” you trail off, and Dalton finishes, “Killed her. Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything. Neither did your dad. She knew the dangers.” You place a hand on Dalton’s cheek and repeat, “It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you.”

Dalton nods against your hand before grabbing your bag and leading you to his dorm. You decide to fly, booking two tickets on the first plane to Albuquerque while Dalton packs. It seems impossible to be this close to answers, but you’ve been waiting for years.

Dalton keeps his hand in yours, a hand on your back, or an arm around your shoulders until you exit the Uber and walk down Main Street in Five Keys. You point to a small restaurant at the corner and tell him Specs said to meet him there.

Dalton feels that same sensation of recognition as he walks beside you. He thinks something moves in the shadows but credits it to exhaustion and an old town. When you walk into the diner, Dalton’s eyes widen as he looks to the back.

“Dalton?” Specs asks, walking toward both of you. He says hello to you before turning his attention back to Dalton. “I haven’t seen you since…”

“Carl wiped my memory?” Dalton suggests.

Specs looks down quickly and then chuckles nervously. “I didn’t- um.”

“I’m messing you with you,” Dalton tells him. “It’s been a long few months, but I remember the Further. And my mom filled in the blank spaces.”

“She did?”

“Yeah, when I got out of the Further after almost dying she seemed eager to answer any and all questions.”

You elbow Dalton and whisper, “Easy.”

“I don’t blame you, though. No hard feelings,” Dalton offers, extending his hand and shaking Specs’.

“We should go to Elise’s house,” Specs says, turning his attention to you. “There’s a room where she worked and more information than I could dream of going through alone.”

You agree and climb into his car with Dalton, looking out the window as Specs asks Dalton about the Red Door and how they closed it. The ride is short, and you’re in awe of the house as you approach it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Specs asks. “Too bad it’s full of horrors and bad memories. The townspeople are trying to get it torn down, but Tucker and I are petitioning historical status – it’s been here a long time.”

“When Elise told me about her childhood?” you ask.

Specs nods and places a hand on your shoulder as he confirms, “It happened here.”

You stiffen and swallow harshly, only relaxing when Dalton’s hand meets your lower back and rubs a comforting circle. “Well, let’s see what she found out.”

Specs leads you inside, through an unused living room, and down the stairs. When Specs turns on the lights, you see a wall of shelves covered in journals and videotapes. There’s a section larger than the others labeled with your name. You look at Specs, and he nods, moving to set up the tape player for you. You toss your bag outside the door, wait for Dalton to do the same, and return to your side before you walk to the section Elise dedicated to you.

“There’s so much,” you whisper. “Where do I start?”

“Mind some advice?” Specs asks.

“Welcome it,” you answer, turning to smile at him.

“Start at the top left, work right, then go down. She organized chronologically. The tapes are most likely your training, and depending on how much of that you remember, may not be as helpful as the journals.” He pauses to point to one tape labeled differently than the others. “You don’t remember this. Read the first journal, then watch this.”

“What is it?” you ask as you pull it from the shelf.

“Depends on your reaction. I’ll be upstairs if you need anything. I hope this helps.”

Specs leaves, and you stare at the tape until the letters on the label begin to blur together.

“Take your time,” Dalton says. “We don’t have to do anything before you’re ready. And if you want privacy, say the word.”

You grab his wrist and shake your head. “Please don’t leave me.”

Dalton smiles and kisses your forehead before promising, “Never.”

Taking a deep breath, you grab the first journal and sit on the small loveseat in front of the TV set. Dalton sits beside you, leaning back to give you room without feeling alone. Cracking open the journal, you read notes about your first time meeting Elise. You remember answering most of these questions but are surprised by the detailed recollection of your words. The reading is quick, and most of the pages are filled with paraphrasing of your explanations and answers and scribbled theories beside them. You turn to the last page, and there’s a number taking up the whole page, the only other marking a small printing of the word ‘Answers.’

“What’s the number?” Dalton asks quietly.

“The tape,” you answer as you stand and put it in the machine. “Apparently it has answers.”

When you sit back down, you sit closer to Dalton and don’t hit play until his arm wraps around you.

“You’ll drift to sleep and then hopefully I can reach your innermost thoughts and maybe even your ancestors to learn the source of your powers,” Elise says.

You nod and watch her as she begins the hypnotization process. Less than a minute later, your eyes are closed, and your breathing is eerily even. 

“Hello?” Elise asks. “Is anyone there?”

“Yes,” you say, but it doesn’t sound like you.

“Who am I talking to?”

The voice says your last name then, “Of old.”

“Can you tell me about the girl’s abilities? Is witchcraft hereditary or something she happened to pick up?”

The voice laughs before answering, “Not only is this hereditary, but she is the last of a dying kind. We are spell walkers and witches of the purest blood.”

“Meaning?” Elise presses.

“She can walk spells, determine their origins and purposes, and being of pure witch blood, is able to do, as you humans call it, ‘magic’ without material or spells. She is pure. Powerful.”

You pause the video and look at Dalton, whose eyes widen as he turns to you.

“How’s it going?” Specs asks from the doorway.

“I need a second,” you mumble, brushing past him and up the stairs.

“Sorry,” Dalton tells him, standing to follow you.

“Dalton,” Specs calls, “let her know she’s not alone.”

Dalton nods and rushes up the stairs, finding you standing in a dark room with your arms wrapped around your waist.

“How did I not know?” you ask, glancing up at him. “I have that much power and didn’t know. What am I supposed to do with it, Dalton?”

Dalton wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his chest. “Hey, we’re going to figure all of this out. Together, okay?” he says.

Specs knocks and hands something to Dalton as he quietly explains, “I found this one yesterday. Elise left it for her.”

Dalton thanks him and holds it out as you step back. When you open it, an amulet falls out, but you catch it and hold it up. It’s very similar to the one around Dalton’s neck; the colors are familiar: almost an identical blend to the colors Dalton said your aura was made of. The first page of the journal is a note addressed to you.

“I’m going to let you read this one alone,” Dalton whispers. “I’ll be right outside with Specs, okay?”

You nod and thank him quietly, watching him leave before you start reading.

This journal documents your progress during your short time with me. I’ve also created a short list of tips for any future progression if that is something you desire. You are powerful and have unbelievable gifts, but they’re yours to use how you want to or need to. If you’re reading this, I’m gone, but find the people who will help you learn and encourage you daily. You can do anything you put your mind (and power) to. -Elise

While you’re reading and reminiscing on your short time with Elise, Dalton is getting answers to his own questions.

“This is yours,” Specs says, pushing a box across the table.

The box is filled with tapes and journals, not as many as you had, all labeled with ‘Lambert.’

“The Further is dangerous, Dalton,” Specs adds, “even for Elise. So even if you think you closed the door permanently, don’t ever let your guard down. You need to protect the people you love.”

“And if the people I love can help?” Dalton asks, looking over his shoulder to the room you’re in.

“Then let them.”

You exit the room a few minutes later, smiling as you hug Dalton. He tells you that Specs gave him Elise’s notes on him and his dad, and you glance into the box.

“The Further?” you ask.

Dalton nods and hugs you before Specs returns.

“You two can take the stuff, but you’re also welcome here anytime.” He hands each of you a key and repeats, “Anytime at all.”

“Thank you for everything, Specs,” you say, shaking his hand and hugging him quickly. “You’ve been more help than you know.”

Dalton thanks him, too, and smiles when Specs says, “Don’t be a stranger.”

As you walk toward the door, Specs tells you to wait and asks, “Have you tried teleporting yet? You did it no problem the last time I saw you.”

“You were there?”

Specs smiles and hands you a paper with a teleportation spell. Dalton reads it over your shoulder as Specs goes back inside.

“We should try,” Dalton says.

“What if it kills us?” you argue.

 “Teleporting with a beautiful witch,” Dalton says dreamily, “what a way to go.”

You move to stand in front of a window where you can see yourself and Dalton in the reflection. His arm wraps around you just before you say, “Discede!”

Your eyes are shut tight when you feel solid ground under your feet again. Blinking slowly to open your eyes, you turn quickly to see Dalton smiling widely.

“It worked,” you say as you look around your apartment.

 “Of course, it did, you’re a witch, babe. A good one.”

“We’re not watching The Wizard of Oz,” you say as you walk away from him and to the couch.

“But there’s no place like home!” Dalton singsongs as he follows you, collapsing onto the couch beside you. “Or you could just talk to me in Latin until I fall asleep, or kiss you, could go either way.”

[hel-lo111]

Well, that's certainly a reason to want memories.

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[belphegoreyxo]

And for all the 30+ cuties you are still hot n fuckbale and shouldn’t be worrying about ur bods u r still a delight to all 5 sensaes

[themculibrary]

T'Challa Masterlist

Betrayal (ao3) - panthershabit t'challa/tony, sam/bucky M, 17k

Summary: After incapacitating Helmut Zemo, T'Challa decides to track Tony and finds him nearly dead in the snow. Unbeknownst to Steve, T'Challa takes Tony to Wakanda and tries to find out what happened.

Consequences (ao3) - WintersGoddess T, 128k

Summary: T'Challa could only hope Rogers hadn't seriously injured or killed any one on his quest. There had been enough death in the past weeks, God knows he couldn't handle much more right now. He was a strong man, but even the strongest can break under to much pressure.

T'Challa sighed noisily, his frustrations growing further. Shuri would be returning soon and then he had no way to stash the Avengers away. He looked out the windows of the study, staring out over the vast jungle, at the skyline cloaked in its blackness. He prayed for strength, for guidance, for some kind of foresight of what may come. If only his prayers had been answered. He would have been able to see what the Gods had in store for him. How his life was about to be shattered. Nothing would ever be the same. His world would forever be changed, and he didn't even know. All because he offered another sanctuary.

*My own take on what I feel should/could happen after the events of Civil War. I didn't really like the ending, so this is my way of dealing with it*

Court Me (ao3) - syriala t'challa/tony G, 2k

Summary: “You and the king spent time in the workshop,” Rhodey told him with a very big grin and Tony frowned.

“And?”

“And the young king is very good looking. And he knows about his tech,” Rhodey said as if he was pointing out something obvious but Tony wasn’t getting it.

“Aaaaaand?” Tony asked again because he was tired and just wanted to enjoy the movie they were watching.

“And I believe he has been flirting with you,” Rhodey finally said when it became clear that Tony wouldn’t pick up on his meaning.

Tony sat up from where he was lying on the couch. “Excuse me?”

glass windows, steel blues (ao3) - fangedangel (clockworkqueen) bucky/t'challa, bucky/alexander N/R, 9k

Summary: T'Challa is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Bucky is his new assistant.

Inimitable (ao3) - TenSpencerRiedPlease t'challa/tony N/R, 63k

Summary: Tony has absolutely no interest in this marriage but his mom seems to think this is a good idea. “I worked hard on finding someone you would actually get along with, Tony. I’m sure you will be happy,” she says.

Happy with someone in some random foreign nation that he’s never met before? Yeah, he gives his mom an incredulous look for that. “Something tells me this isn’t going to end well, but it’s only the rest of my life,” he mumbles.

-

T’Challa isn’t exactly sure about this marriage but his father insisted and he maybe loves his father a little too much given that he agreed to this.

it takes an ocean not to break (ao3) - napricot bucky/t'challa E, 39k

Summary: “Yet you haven’t sought any vengeance against HYDRA.”

Bucky laughed, incredulous and sad. “No. No, I—” he paused, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth. “If I ran into anyone trying to take me in again, I—I handled it. And I hit a few old HYDRA bases, took ‘em out so they couldn’t use them. But—no. Revenge?” He shook his head. “It’s too big. If I’d let it, it would have taken up all the room inside of me, and there wouldn’t be anything left of me. I had to let it go.”

T'Challa and Bucky get to know each other, and T'Challa learns how to let it go.

Keep You Warm (ao3) - SoBeBold bucky/t'challa E, 3k

Summary: Bucky comes out of cryo. Both he and T’Challa are dealing with some major league issues. Being the warriors they are, they tend to keep it all bottled inside…but who said spooning was off limits?

or

The five times T'Chucky cuddled platonically and the one time there was nothing platonic about it.

Lost & Found (ao3) - d_aia t'challa/tony M, 38k

Summary: T'Challa saw the black motorcycle again. There was something about it that was so familiar, a niggling sensation that wouldn’t leave him, though he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It annoyed him. He had seen the bike two days ago, on the side of the road, but he was in a hurry then, and needed to get moving. Not this time.

-

In which T'Challa and Tony don't meet in the middle of a planet-wide conflict.

moonstone (ao3) - jesspava (cyclical) m’baku/t’challa G, 3k

Summary: “So you two are having sex!” Shuri yells.

From the bed, T’Challa looks up, face blank. His stack of papers lowers a fraction.

“We are?” he asks drily, “M’Baku why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve put my book down.”

Natural order (ao3) - Builder T, 5k

Summary: “No one would blame you, you know,” she says. “If you wanted to take it easy.”

“It’s sitting behind a desk and listening, Natasha,” T’Challa says. “It is easy.”

_____

If only things were as simple as that.

Also know as That One T'Challa Appendicitis Fic

Pads, Paws and Claws (ao3) - molmcmahon harry potter/t’challa T, 8k

Summary: Harry lands in a world of superheroes and secret countries and finds a home and maybe something more.

The Accidental Husband (ao3) - panda_shi t'challa/tony M, 99k (WIP)

Summary: Tony Stark discovers, that during his lowest point when he had been almost-twenty-one, he had married the King of Wakanda. Except he doesn't remember how. Now, trying to get a divorce is going to be one challenging thing -- how is this his life, even? It's almost unfair!

The Adventures of Peter Parker and Shuri (ao3) - aceschwarz222 gamora/peter, pepper/tony G, 92k

Summary: T'Challa must spend two weeks at the Avengers Compound working on an agreement with Tony Stark in light of Wakanda opening its borders and resources. He brings along his sister, Shuri, who meets the equally nerdy Peter Parker.

Basically a bunch of short, fluffy drabbles about a fantastic friendship between two adorable dorks.

The Favor of the King (ao3) - thingswithwings t’challa/sam E, 18k

Summary: T'Challa – King T'Challa of Wakanda, the Black Panther, Guy Who Dresses Up Like a Cat to Fight Crime or Possibly for Other Reasons, Who the Fuck Knows – T'Challa corners Sam during one of their visits to check in on Bucky and says, in a mild voice that should not sound as threatening as it does, "We need to talk."

"We do, huh," Sam says, looking him up and down. He's just a king and a superhero and a genius inventor and possibly the richest man alive, looking way too fine and wearing the hell out of a tailored three-piece suit; Sam can hold his own against this guy.

These Scars Haunt Me (ao3) - awesome_goddess_of_mischief t'challa/tony M, 11k

Summary: When Wakanda entered the world, new soulmate bonds were discovered. One of which between their king and an American omega. It isn't until the omega arrives that they realise how badly he has been treated...

"All T'challa knew, was that if his omega had been happy and healthy there wouldn't be a need for apologies."

The Truth Never Set Me Free (I Did It Myself) (ao3) - TenSpencerRiedPlease t'challa/tony N/R, 103k

Summary: There were a lot of opinions on Tony Stark and T’Challa was not sure which, if any, to believe. He has done his research, extensively so. He poured over the information once, twice, three times, and a fourth for good measure and came to the same conclusion every time. But Tony was his soul mate and his heart hurt to be away from him like this. It would be foolish to assume he could ever see the man objectively.

Soulmate AU in which everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmate

where the monarchy is headed (ao3) - biblionerd07 t’challa/sam, steve/bucky T, 44k

Summary: When T'Challa says he wants to court Sam, Sam is all in. And then come the "prince lessons." There's a lot more to this dating-a-king-thing than Sam realized.

When The Dawn Comes, Tonight Will Be A Memory Too (ao3) - awakencordy bucky/t'challa M, 10k

Summary: “He is awake, Your Highness. He is aware of his surroundings and has reacted positively to basic questions. He knows his name, he remembers the facility and he didn’t react when he learned that only a month has been passed.”

Watching through the glass, T’Challa nodded his thanks and moved to open the door.

“Would you like a bodyguard, Your Highness?”

[lorenzospurio]

N.E. 01/2023 - "Le tragedie a son pì parëssante ancheuj che ’n sle stagere d’Atene", poesia di Dario Pasero

Poesia nella parlata piemontese della zona centrale del saluzzese (nord-ovest della prov. di Cuneo) Malfé tiré a nent ij dëscambi dl’asar dj’anlev dësparì an sle stërnìe, pèj d’Alcesti, tragedie an quatr part sensa sërvan nì drama, dëstin dij cap ëd chité le soe marche an minca maginativa ’d cacam e ’d savant tan’ dësleivà ’nt soa ment da chërde d’avèj ant lor midem na cocarda archincà…

[claudehenrion]

Faites ce que je dis...

mais surtout pas ce que je fais... c'est le message subliminal de nos dirigeants dénués de toute pudeur : on cherche en vain un rapport entre ce qu'ils disent et ce qu'ils font : pas la plus petite relation de cause à effet. Malgré le mal que se donnent ces nuls pour camoufler leur ''nullitude'' –comme aurait dit une des plus ''royalement'' nulles parmi eux !-- on va sans (nul) doute devoir bientôt les désigner par un ''les archi-nuls'' qui, compte tenu de leurs performances dans tous les domaines, semble leur aller mieux encore que le ''les Nuls'' qui avait cours jusque là.

La grande foire annuelle sur le climat --qui ne sert qu'à maintenir la pression et l'angoisse sur tous les hommes de bonne volonté-- est revenue occuper la ''une'' de nos organes de Presse, depuis peu réservée en exclusivité à tous les faux problèmes qui n'intéressent, au fond, que de soi-disant ''élites auto-proclamées''. Conçue ''sur mesure'' pour assurer cette inutile fonction, la COP s'est réunie cette année à Dubaï, source d'or noir s'il en est (Attention : rien de raciste dans ce mot : ce ''noir'' ne contient aucune allusion à quelque couleur de peau que ce soit . Pas d'amalgame SVP !) --ce qui confirme si besoin était, son statut de ''gag planétaire''. Elle se glorifie de porter le numéro 28 (ce qui veut dire que cette ''commedia sensa arte'' a déjà eu lieu 27 fois... sans que rien de vraiment utile en soit jamais sorti... ce qui est tout de même ''fort de café'' --un Arabica, sûrement, à Dubaï ! Ils auraient pu au moins faire semblant d'accoucher d'une souris... Même pas !

La vérité est triste : un authentique roman noir (même remarque que ci-dessus !), mais un roman noir effroyablement coûteux pour les contribuables de tous les pays : pensez que cette troupe de prébendiers qui n'ont rien d'intelligent à dire se retrouvent à 88 000 –vous avez bien lu : quatre vingt huit mille nuls) pour discuter sans fin de météo, pour découvrir pour la n -ième fois qu'il fait plus chaud l'été que l'hiver dans l'hémisphère nord et le contraire dans l'hémisphère sud, pour redécouvrir que ''après la pluie, le beau temps'' et vice-versa, ou pour déguiser sous des verbiages technocratiques le fait qu'il y a toujours eu d'énormes variations climatiques sur notre Terre qui n'a pas eu besoin des hommes pour inonder, réchauffer, assécher, refroidir, geler, fondre, etc... dans des cycles gigantesques qui échapperont encore longtemps à toute compréhension de notre ''science''...

Il faut revenir sur ce chiffre tout-à-fait incroyable de 88 000. C'est énorme ! Avant de le lire, je ne croyais même pas qu'il y avait autant de ''Nuls-majuscules'', même en grattant les fonds de tiroirs... A l'immense scandale que constitue leur nombre, il faut ajouter que cette armada inutile est faite de tous les beaux esprits minables qui nous répètent à longueur de journée qu'il faut que nous remplacions la riche palette de nos sentiments et de nos émotions par une seule et unique préoccupation : notre ''bilan carbone individuel''.

Plus d 'avions, plus d'autos, plus de vaches (car ''elles pètent'', viennent de découvrir ces citadins claquemurés dans leur ignorance de la vraie vie), plus d'eau chaude, plus de chauffage dans nos appartements, plus d'industries, plus de voyages, plus d'enfants, plus de vieux... plus rien que le triomphe de leur idée aussi fixe qu'inutile : plus ils nous emmerdent, plus les chiffres se moquent d'eux... Le réchauffement, qui a l'air d'être de fait, l'est sur une période de temps bien trop courte pour quelque généralisation que ce soit, et à une échelle qui a peu ou pas de liens avec les ''chiures de mouche'' que sont nos émissions, à l'échelle cosmique : si la France était brutalement rayée de la carte, corps et âmes, le résultat ne serait pas perceptible sur les chiffres totaux !

Selon l'OCDE, citée par Les Echos, et contre tous les engagement officiellement pris par nos myopes-aveugles-sourds-progressistes-de-Gauche (''Croissant de bois, croissant de fer, si je mens, je vais en enfer'' , disent-ils), le soutien public aux énergies fossiles dans les principales économies du monde a doublé en un an, passant de 770Mds$ en 2021 à 1 481Mds$ en 2022. Et il en va de même pour tous les chiffres, toutes les mesures, toutes les tendances : tout se passe comme si, devant l'énormité des bêtises qu'ils profèrent à longueur de journée, la nature se foutait de leur gueule : les glaciers fondent plus vite... le CO², se fabrique sans limite... les températures évoluent en sens contraire de ce qu'ils annonçaient... et plus on contrôle les quantités et les chiffres ''non-significatifs'' qu'ils brandissent, plus le résultat atteint est à l'opposé complet de ce qu'ils racontent qu'il faudrait. Et Macron d'entériner toutes leurs folies en nous rendant peu à peu la vie invivable !

Le collectif scientifique Global Carbon Project a publié, pas plus tard qu'hier, un rapport qui établit que les émissions mondiales de CO² vont encore progresser de 1,1 % en 2023. A ce train-là , d’ici 7 ans, il nous sera impossible de limiter le réchauffement à +1,5°C max (objectif de la COP21, cet objet inexplicable des larmes de crocodile du comique Fabius, on s'en souvient !). De quoi faire basculer la COP28 dans l’ambition et l’urgence ? Euh… ''faut voir à voir'', d'après TTSO : sur les 88 000 participants enregistrés, près de 2 500 (3%) sont des lobbyistes des énergies fossiles, y compris la puissance invitante et les plus gros ''généreux sponsors'' de cette grosse farce....Les ''chikayas'' entre Macron et les vrais puissants du monde, depuis hier, s'expliquent tout seuls : l'Occident vit sur un nuage d'idées périmées qu'il veut imposer au monde qui, notamment à cause d'elles, l'a pris en grippe ''pour de bon''.

L'émirati Sultan al-Jaber,membre du gouvernement, ministre de l'industrie et des technologies avancées et président de la COP 28 (une autre pointure que Greta Thunberg, tout de même !) a répondu vertement au Guardian : ''Je suis ingénieur et je ne vois rien de réel dans tout ce que vous racontez. Je ne souscrirai en aucun cas à des idéologies alarmistes. Aucune étude scientifique, aucun scénario, ne dit que la sortie des énergies fossiles nous permettra d’atteindre 1,5 °C. (… ni pourquoi il faudrait les atteindre...). Montrez-moi la feuille de route d’une sortie des énergies fossiles qui soit compatible avec le développement socio-économique, sans renvoyer le monde à l’âge des cavernes''... Ambiance !

Venus en avion à 99 %, (NB : ''Bonjour le bilan-carbone'' !), les con-gressistes-prébendiers-profiteurs en goguette à Dubaï ont le choix entre 140 192 chambres (j'ai soigneusement vérifié ce chiffre) hors de prix, dans 769 établissements hôteliers déjà proches de la saturation, les hôtels dubaïotes flirtant avec un niveau d’occupation proche de 82 %. (NDLR - il est intéressant de savoir que, au moment où notre gouvernement et la hidalgo nous annoncent les pires catastrophes pour les Jeux Olympique, Dubaï (82 %) se classé au premier rang mondial, devant Londres (56,0 %), New York (55,3 %) ou Paris (51,2 %), selon les données de la société d’analyse de gestion hôtelière STR. Pour mémoire (j'ai aussi trouvé le chiffre exact), Paris ne dispose que de 85 000 chambre de toutes catégories. On voit vers où est en train de se réorganiser la vraie puissance du monde !).

Je n'ai pas le courage de coucher par écrit les tristes conclusions que m'inspirent ces chiffres, ces remarques, et le choc frontal entre la réalité du monde et le cauchemar dans lequel veulent nous faire errer sans but –et pour rien-- nos lamentables dirigeants. Si on les suit, il est gros comme le nez au milieu de la figure (j'écris ça parce que je dois me faire opérer sous peu d'un cancer sur ma narine droite) que nous serons pressurisés à mort (fiscalement parlant : ils savent faire), étouffé par des dystopies liberticides (ils savent aussi, très bien) … et que nous nous réveillerons avec des résultats... identiques à ''si on n'avait rien fait'' : à analyse sans sens, résultats insensés !

H-Cl

[ecoced]

Amigos emplumados, chega: soluções eficazes para assustar os pássaros

Aqui, exploramos soluções eficazes para espantar as aves e manter uma coexistência harmoniosa entre os humanos e os nossos amigos emplumados.

Dissuasores Visuais:

Aproveite o poder dos dissuasores visuais para dissuadir as aves de nidificar ou empoleirar-se em ￡reas indesej￡veis. Objetos refletivos, como fitas brilhantes, superf￭cies met￡licas ou giradores refletivos, podem criar um ambiente que os p￡ssaros consideram perturbador. O movimento constante e a mudan￧a dos padr￵es de luz podem ser eficazes para dissuadi-los de se instalarem em locais indesejados.

Iscas de predador:

Os espanta p￡ssaros s￣o naturalmente cautelosos com predadores em potencial. Colocar iscas de predadores, como modelos realistas de falc￵es, corujas ou animais predadores, pode criar uma sensa￧￣o de perigo para p￡ssaros menores, encorajando-os a procurar locais mais seguros. Mudar regularmente a posi￧￣o da isca ajuda a manter sua efic￡cia.

Dissuasores S￴nicos:

Utilize o som como um impedimento para afastar os p￡ssaros. Dispositivos s￴nicos emitem sons que irritam os p￡ssaros, mas n￣o s￣o prejudiciais. Esses dispositivos podem imitar os chamados de predadores ou emitir sinais de socorro, criando um ambiente desconfort￡vel que incentiva as aves a se deslocarem para outro lugar. Certifique-se de que os sons sejam alterados periodicamente para evitar que as aves se acostumem com eles.

Espigas e redes para pássaros:

Barreiras f￭sicas, como espigas e redes para p￡ssaros, fornecem uma solu￧￣o pr￡tica para evitar que as aves pousem ou empoleirem-se em estruturas. Os espig￵es podem ser instalados em bordas, peitoris de janelas e outras superf￭cies planas, enquanto a rede pode ser usada para cobrir ￡reas maiores, como planta￧￵es ou espa￧os ao ar livre, criando uma barreira eficaz contra visitantes indesejados de aves.

Géis e sprays repelentes:

G￩is e sprays repelentes de p￡ssaros s￣o solu￧￵es n￣o t￳xicas que criam uma superf￭cie desagrad￡vel para os p￡ssaros pousarem. Esses produtos s￣o eficazes em sali￪ncias, peitoris de janelas e outras superf￭cies, desencorajando a instala￧￣o de p￡ssaros nessas ￡reas. Os repelentes devem ser aplicados regularmente para obter melhores resultados.

Armadilhas humanas e realocação:

Para situa￧￵es em que ￩ necess￡ria uma abordagem mais pr￡tica, armadilhas humanas podem ser usadas para capturar aves para uma realoca￧￣o segura. Certifique-se de que as regulamenta￧￵es locais e as considera￧￵es ￩ticas sejam seguidas ao usar armadilhas e trabalhe com profissionais experientes em m￩todos humanos de controle de aves.

Servi￧os profissionais de controle de aves:

Quando confrontado com problemas persistentes relacionados com aves, procurar a assistência de serviços profissionais de controlo de aves é uma escolha sábia. Profissionais experientes podem realizar avaliações completas, recomendar soluções personalizadas e implementar um plano abrangente de gestão de aves para enfrentar desafios específicos de forma eficaz.

[nimphidiarp-blog]

Não acho que seja justo tirar um dos blogs quando algumas pessoas gostam dos dois. Eu fico com gossip se precisar mesmo escolher, mas acho que não é preciso eliminar um dos extras? Quem não gosta de gossip, não manda gossip. Quem não gosta de confess, não manda confess. Quem não gosta de nenhum não manda nada e quem gosta dois, que aproveite. Não é como se alguém fosse ser prejudicado pela existência de um ou outro, considerando todo mundo tem consciência pra não mandar ódio ❤️

Esperei até agora para que desse tempo de todos se pronunciarem e minha decisão é a mesma que a sugestão do anônimo. Acho que temos maturidade para não enviar perguntas e confissões desconfortáveis para os outros e tornar os dois blogs fonte de diversão. Os próprios players também se dividiram quase igualmente nas opiniões kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk pra agradar gregos e troianos, e esperando que dê certo, os dois blogs irão continuar!

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - PART 4! (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Sex. Oral (m receiving). Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 2872

A/N: It's time for Smutty Sunday, y'all! Here is the continuation of Part 3's escapades. I'm absolutely loving your reactions, feedback, and predictions--I know a lot of you are wondering what Jack will think of all of this, and I promise it's coming (I have to admit, it's a little bit of a slow burn in that respect so far, so be prepared!). I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues. And once again thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for your support, likes, reblogs, comments! Y'all are seriously the best!

(Just as a side note, our reader is not super sexually liberated at this point, which feels more authentic to me for a married woman in the 1960's.)

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so attracted to someone in your entire life. It’s like your heart wants to fly out of your chest and every cell in your body is drawn to him. Maybe it’s just the euphoria of the sex, maybe it’s something deeper, but either way, it’s overwhelming, lying here, watching Elvis watch you.

He is on his side, head leaning against his hand, dark hair flopping against his forehead, watching you carefully. You finally do what you’ve been tempted to all night—you run your fingers over his high cheekbone and down the straight slope of his nose, dragging over the rough stubble above his lips.

You imagine this is the face the Greeks pictured when thinking of the gods, the face that the Renaissance sculptors modeled their busts after, the face of angels, somehow cherubic and tempting at the same time. It’s an ethereal beauty.

And yet, here he is, flesh and blood, in front of me, sharing my bed, you think in disbelief.

He chases your fingers with his mouth, nibbling on them playfully. You can’t help but laugh. As the mood shifts again, he kisses your palm, the back of your hand, your fingertips, locking you in with his tantalizing bedroom eyes. This time when he pulls your fingers in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around them, it has a decidedly different effect. Pleasure rockets through you once again.

Oh. Oh.

Unable to contain yourself any longer, you take your fingers out of his mouth and replace them with your tongue, letting him know you’re ready for whatever is next. Elvis hums contentedly in response, unhurried. His hand drifts over your naked body, over your breasts, down your belly, resting on your hip. The kisses begin lazily, then become more intense as you explore what he likes. You want to return the favor and make him feel as good as he is making you feel.

You pepper kisses over his forehead, down his cheeks, along his strong jaw until you find the spot—that spot—that makes him careen forward with a low groan, his hands tightening in your hair. It’s right behind his earlobe, in the divot where his jaw meets his neck. After giving that spot ample attention, you explore further, nibbling on said earlobe and pulling it into your mouth.

That has him growling in earnest, a sound so primal and erotic you feel it in your toes, and he climbs on top of you in response. He kisses you deeply, hungrily now, rolling his body against yours for the first time. The sensation sends a thrill of heat through you when you feel the hard length of him digging into your belly.

You run your hand over his chest, scratching briefly at his nipple, which makes him jolt on top of you. Playfully, you reach down further, fingers dancing, teasing at his belt line. He kisses you hard as you start removing his heavy, adorned belt. Impatient, he helps you, but then you grasp his erection through his pants. He groans fully, rutting into your hand, and you feel a surge of power at the realization that you literally have Elvis in the palm of your hand. That thought coupled with feel of him starts that coil of heat in your core all over again. You bite your lip in a smile.

You unzip his pants oh so slowly, coquettishly savoring the moment a little before pulling them down over his hips. True to rumor, he does not wear anything underneath, so he springs free immediately. He’s long, longer than you anticipated, which sends a little shiver through you. He makes quick work of standing, shedding his pants and throwing them to the floor, finally and completely bare for you.

And, oh god, what a sight to behold. Your breath catches at the sight of this entirely perfect being in front of you as you prop yourself up to take him in. Your face must show some of what you are thinking because he responds with a grin.

“See something you like, honey?” he quips.

Wrapping your hand around his bare cock, you use your thumb to massage the head, which is already dripping with pre-cum. His eyes roll back and his mouth pops open as you fondle him.

“You could say that,” you tease.

Before he has a chance to react, you slide yourself towards him and boldly circle the tip of him with your tongue.

“Oh, Jesus, baby,” he gasps, eyes going wide in surprise, fully unprepared. He looks down at you with dark lust in his eyes, that one sexy eyebrow quirking with a non-verbal, “Are you sure?”

You respond by flattening your tongue and running it all the way from base to tip, topping it with another wet swirl.

Elvis’ entire body shudders with a deep moan, the sound of which should be illegal based on what it does to you, the pulse of heat that travels over you, settling in your core. His hand wraps firmly through your hair. You take this as a good sign, pumping his cock with one hand as you lavish attention on the head, alternating between sucking him in your mouth and teasing him with your tongue.

You’ve never been the hugest fan of giving head, but watching Elvis receive it is like nothing else you’ve experienced, and you can feel the warmth between your thighs where your wetness pools. The lust in those heavily lidded eyes looking down at you is enough to get you ready for him again.  

He’s not prepared, once again, for when you suddenly take as much of him as you can in your mouth. Relaxing your throat with a yawn, you let him hit the back before pulling him back out with a pop, jerking him off. You look up at him with innocent, wide eyes.

It has the intended effect.

The guttural growl that emanates from him coupled with the fire now roaring in his eyes has you quaking. He tightens his fist in your hair, the message clear, as he presses back into your mouth, where you repeat the action.

“GodDAMN, where in the hell did you learn to do that, mama?” he moans.

You shrug coyly and work your mouth around him, pumping up and down, beginning to massage his heavy balls, until he suddenly pulls out of you.

“Baby, baby, stop…I ain’t gonna last long if you keep goin’ hard like that,” he pants, running a hand through his hair.

You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as you look up at him, wiping the spit off with the back of your hand.

“Woman, I’m gonna wipe that pretty smile right off your face,” he growls playfully, then launches himself at you, attacking your neck and face with kisses. You squeal in surprise, retreating backwards, as he comes down on top of you, his weight now pinning you to the mattress.

Then he’s kissing you so deeply, it’s like he’s trying to devour you, the heat of him smoldering down your body, leaving you gasping for breath. He nudges your thighs apart, sliding his body in between them, and you moan in his mouth at the fiery feel of his body against yours, the way his bare skin touches your own as he presses against you. He traps his cock between you, and you roll against him, wanting all of him, wanting him to consume you.

Elvis props himself up above you, reaching in between your legs, massaging your clit, sending a shockwave through you. You arch into him with a whine, wanting more. You can tell by the way he smiles down at you, his cobalt eyes nearly black and shining, that he’s as drunk on you as you are on him. Then he’s palming your pussy, dipping his fingers through your folds, testing, stretching. With each prod, you feel that pressure within you begin to build again.

“You ready for me, baby?” he asks, that baritone gravely, pulling his fingers out of you.

“Oh, yes,” you nod enthusiastically.

You help line him up to your entrance, and with that, he presses into you with a grunt, and you gasp. He’s gentler than you anticipated, controlled, pushing a little in, then pulling out, and back again, as you adjust to him. The pressure of him easing into your tight, wet pussy sends your hips up to meet his in a slow rhythm.

You become increasingly more and more aroused, that coil in your belly tightening with each breath, especially after the sexy groan that comes from deep within him as he finally bottoms out. He pauses and you wrap your legs around his waist, letting him go deeper. He begins slowly, but then you become intimately aware of just how well “Elvis the Pelvis” can use his hips. He rolls and swirls against you, hitting places inside you that you didn’t know existed.

And he definitely knows how to pace himself. Once again, you are surprised, because experience has shown you that men come undone nearly instantly. Not this man. At first, you think you must be doing something wrong, that maybe he’s not into it, but everything about him screams the opposite. The way he’s kissing you, those noises he’s making, and namely, he’s still very hard. Then you figure out that, no, he’s just good at this, and wants to make it equally good for you.

What a concept.

You can’t get enough of him, even though he’s filling you so completely, more than anyone has before. Your hands roam his body, his face, through his hair, anything that will keep you grounded and present with him because you feel like you might fly off the face of the earth otherwise.

You explore a little, watching his reactions closely, like how he bucks harder into you when you grab his perfect ass or the hiss he makes when you run your tongue over his nipples. How he pulls you closer when your fingernails lightly scrape his back, how every move leaves you both feeling better than the last. Your body vibrates, buzzes this close to him, the fire between you like two live wires bucking against each other.

When he takes your hand and slips it between you, encouraging you to touch yourself while he fucks you, you are initially shocked. You never realized this was a thing you could or should do, but after your initial hesitation and a little experimentation, it becomes apparent that it feels absolutely brilliant and that he is incredibly aroused by you doing this.

All the new sensations flooding your body coupled with the ethereally gorgeous man on top of you have you running headlong towards an unprecedented second climax. Your body flushes with heat, the building more gradual than before but no less intense.

The pace becomes more frenetic, his moans deeper and more primal with every thrust as he fucks you into the mattress, salty sweat dripping from his face onto yours. You are reaching for the stars again, your body beginning to tense.

“I…I think I’m gonna…cum,” you stammer out, breathless.

“Cum for me, darlin’, I’m right behind you,” he pants.

That’s apparently all you need as the coil of heat releases inside you, causing you to clench around him with a strangled cry of, “Oh-my-fucking-god!”

You cling to him, feeling the slick arousal inside you increase, and with it the stutter of his hips as he frantically chases the same high you are still riding. You watch the stunning sight as he comes inside you—dick pulsing, his jaw clenching, lip curling, his long lashes fluttering as his eyes roll back, and the fierce roar that escapes through his teeth has you arching up into him, meeting his final thrust with fervor.

“Fuuucking hell, baby,” he groans as he collapses on top of you, his weight heavy but comforting as you both catch your breath. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest, nearly in time with your own, and you want more than anything to freeze this moment in time, to bottle this incredible feeling inside you.

Your belly relaxes, the warmth of your orgasm dissipating into tingles throughout your body. Elvis props himself on his forearms and kisses your neck, your forehead, your lips, softly.

“Did I make you happy?” you muse, nuzzling his nose with a smile.

He laughs, a breathless, glorious sound, “Hmm, well, let’s see,” he wiggles on top of you, making you giggle, “Judgin’ by this mess we just made between your legs, I’d say we’re both pretty happy, lil’ mama.”

“Elvis!” you swat at him.

“Speaking of,” he says, winking, then pulls out of you, leaving you feeling rather empty. He hurries off to the bathroom, and you admire the view of his backside for the first time. Unsurprisingly, it’s just as lovely as the rest of him.

“I can feel you starin’ at my ass, woman!” he calls. You hear water running.

“Well, you didn’t leave me much of a choice!” you call back, laughing.

Elvis reappears with a wet washcloth in hand, then gently wipes the stickiness from between your thighs. It’s quite intimate and is one of the many things that have surprised you about him tonight. You watch him curiously.

“Thank you,” you say quietly as he finishes.

Elvis kisses your shoulder. “Baby, I told you, I take care of what’s mine.”

You feel your cheeks flush. He says it in such a matter-of-fact way that it comes off as sweet, though the possessiveness behind the statement is not lost on you, and you cannot help how it sends a thrill down your spine. Apparently, you now qualified as being Elvis’ (or maybe you always had been, you didn’t know).

He climbs back in the bed and pulls you into his side. You drape your arm over his chest, your hand resting over his heart. There is something incredibly soothing about the thunk, ker-thunk under your palm. It reminds you that this whole strange, unbelievable night is real…though it also means the consequences are real. You desperately try to push away the thought, wanting to savor this little slice of heaven before reality smacks you in the face, but the realist in you doesn’t let it go.

Elvis turns serious, looking down at you as if sensing what you are thinking. Gently, he says, “And, yes, honey, you make me happy.” (Not made but make…an interesting distinction, you think.) His eyes are returning to their crystalline blue and looking at you with such tenderness, it makes your heart flutter. You don’t want it to. It makes this harder.

“I can’t stay for long, y/n, for obvious reasons,” he whispers after a moment, “even though I’d like to.”

“I know,” you say, taking in a deep breath, pausing. “We shouldn’t…we can’t do this again, E.” It falls out of your mouth even though you don’t want it to.

You feel his breath catch under your hand and he goes silent.

After a moment, he pulls you up and cups your cheeks in his warm hands, those eyes kind and searching your face.

“I understand, honey,” he says, nodding. Then, after a moment of consideration, “But know that I’d like if this happened again…if you want it.”

A little surprised, you shake your head. “Elvis, no, we…”

“If you want it, baby. No pressure. Just two lonely souls findin’ comfort in each other sometimes.” He brushes the hair off your cheek and tucks it behind your ear. Then, those lips of his kiss your forehead so very softly.

You give him a dubious look.

“Look, if you change your mind, I want you to wear this scarf,” he says, pulling the pink scarf from behind you, where it had been discarded on the mattress during your lovemaking. “If you put it around your neck, I’ll know you want to do this again. I’ll make it happen.” He places the silk fabric around your neck.

You toy with it, admiring its pink hue, considering his request. You couldn’t possibly do this, not again. It is already complicated enough. Too risky, in more ways than one. But he’s watching you carefully and a tiny part of you considers what he’s offering.

“Alright, E, but no promises,” you finally say, knowing he won’t drop it until you respond.

Elvis smiles, happy with the concession. “Good. Now come ‘ere,” he says, pulling you back into him. You try to convince yourself, as you lie there naked, wrapped up in him, that this is just a one-time thing. A silly indiscretion to get back at Jack (even if he doesn’t know it) that you now have out of your system.

But soon you feel yourself once again consumed by the touch of this beautiful man, the smell of him, the taste of him, and you wonder how in the world you can possibly go back to the way things were before.

Elvis Presley is oh so very tempting. In fact, he’s made a living off it.

This is—he is—very, very dangerous.

And I like it.

**

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