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sugudoe · 2 months ago

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☕️⌇ ◜ OFFICE HOURS ◞ ⠀⠀⠀

╰⠀boss!nanami x secretary!reader where . . . nanami kento can’t let people know the reality that he, under no circumstances, belongs to them. in fact, is quite the contrarie. everyone in this job is a puppet willingly letting him pull the strings. you more than anyone. after committing the bizarre mistake of telling nanami your true intentions with him, your boss is more than eager to comply your desires and just maybe, forget he first input of no belongings.

cw. too much swearing, fingering with others present (not caught), fem!reader, reader keeps daydreaming w. nanami, slightly age gap but non-important all legal, public sex, overstimulation, they both keep failing to hide, possessiveness, love bites, he slap her thigh once, bit of blood because of self lip biting 4.9k words, english is not my first language.

an. hi, hello, i want everyone to know i’m this man wife. this is, in fact, our love story, i used to serve his coffee, now i’m serving my puss— anyways, enjoy it. FYI nanami smells like either tom ford tobacco vanille or byredo bibliothèque.

There are certain events in the workplace ── a sequence, if you may ── that serves as a warning to everyone that Mr. Nanami Kento has arrived.

Not many months ago, you were clueless to the symphony of presentation he had, even before stepping into the room. Now, though, it’s engraved in your mind. Much like he is. It is, also, a dirty secret to have that you eagerly wait for it, everyday.

Halting the tack-tack of your fingers on the keyboard, your ears pick the first signal ── rushed footsteps. All opening space so he can pass without the need to raise his eyes, hidden by sunglasses, from his cellphone. The second is the whispers and swooning. Some, more brave than others, compliment him out loud. Always about his peculiar ties, and always he smiles back. Lastly, when Nanami is in your sight of view, he is accompanied by his signature scent that greets you before he even does.

The most raw way to describe his smell is by saying that you wish you could crack him open, and lay inside of him forever. It’s comfortable and addicting and it makes you want to kiss him until it can permanently fixates on you.

In more proper synonyms, Nanami Kento smells like caramel, wood and a bit smokey. He is hot to the touch, one can admit. You don’t fall far from these thoughts, but sometimes, when you are not eye-fucking your boss, you think he smells like a cozy cabin in the woods.

Perfect place to fuck him, though.

Is easy to imagine such a thing. You can picture him with thick sweat covering his body, like a second layer, as he comes inside with a hatchet and wood for the fireplace. And you can, also easily, imagine yourself on your knees sucking him so good, as way to thank him for keeping you warm.

It’s a Kento effect. Everywhere he passes, people tend to have a heat stroke. You are no better than the others. Probably worse. He, however, does not need to know that. Nanami’s plate is already filled to the brims with people gazing him as a snack, he doesn’t need his personal assistant to do the same.

Not in front of him, anyways.

So, when he comes near your table, and stop to take whatever you have for him (work related, honey, even when you wish it was your pussy), you present the calls he need to answer with a compliment for his shoes and a black coffee with pretzels.

He adores you.

You want to fuck him senseless.

A perfect imperfect balance of clashing feelings. His are professional, yours are not even close. He only steps over the boundaries when it’s to call you “Darling” and you only do so in your head, when you think of laying on his table and letting him feast on your dripping cunt.

He is gentle and caring.

You wouldn’t mind chanting his name loud enough for everyone to understand what’s happening.

He departs ways and you share a trembling sigh with your inner turmoil of emotions. He makes you have a constant fever. In fact, with him, everything is constant. You want to fuck him everyday, you touch yourself with his voice in your mind guiding you. He gets pretty out of character in your alone mind, though.

Real Nanami is a sweetheart. Your Nanami would make you cry while on his cock.

“── and the meeting room needs to be ready by eleven, you can do all that, darling?” He asks. He asks! He is talking with you.

“I, uh, I’m sorry, Mr. Kento,” You stutter before shifting your attention from your computer screen to his charming understandable smile. “could you repeat, please?”

“Sure, darling.”

You need to put extra neurons to work when eyeing his pink lips moving gracefully. Is it the same shade as his cock? Oh, you hoped so. That would be your favorite color, would paint your nails, your hair, anything.

“Got it now?” Nanami curls his lips as he question you. You can’t lie to him, so you sign that No, you did not payed attention. He chuckles and comes closer, resting both hands in fist on your table, letting himself down so he can be face to face with you. “I need you to order mine, yours and the lunch for the usual gentleman I talk about the finances, ── you have that noted, right?” You nod, and he proceeds. “Then, I want you to decorate the meeting room, the way you always do.” You nod again, and he moves back. You want to whine. “Good girl.”

Pause.

That’s new. It’s like achieving a new item in a game. A new level. That’s a prize, the greatest form of enlightenment one could have. You feel warm in your chest and cheeks, but dare not to sway your eyes from his twinkling ones. You wonder if he knows what you are thinking, or if he knows the power he has over you ── over everyone.

That’s Nanami Kento. The man with a dazzling aura, it touches all in proximity, no one survives him. If he wants, you are his. Hooked like a worm, willingly ready to be devoured by a fish, and the thing is no one knows if Nanami is said fish or the fisherman.

The secret about his success is not only the sweet talk he does, but the way he can easily take it away. And no one wants to be away from his warmth. You’ve seen it before, how he controls people ── some more powerful than your mind can comprehend, they all are puppets for him to pull the strings. He touches and praises them when they do what he wants, but Nanami grows cold and absent when they don’t.

Everyone wants to be loved by him, so everything this enterprise does, it revolves around Nanami.

He can be a scary man when he wants, and you’ve heard the tales, from time to time. With you, fortunately, he is just your nice boss. And a part of you wish he would cradle you into his arms and play with you like a marionete. His doll. Yeah, you want to be his fucking doll.

Tempted to ruin this lunch and be ravished by his famine, you shake your deranged thoughts and focus on ordering the food. Also asking for red velvet cookies for you and Mr. Gojo, the owner of this whole enterprise.

A cocky young man, that likes to devour your physique whenever you come inside the room. He is rich and beautiful and his name is always on the newspaper with gossip mostly involved. You could fall for him, could fuck him, but he is not Nanami.

He doesn’t boss you around gently, nor he makes you crave his scent on lonely nights. He makes you shy, but not timid and horny. In fact, you don’t even think about Satoru Gojo unless you are balancing his persona with Nanami’s. That’s sad for him.

You keep doing that ── the thoughts, the sexual dreams ── while preparing the meeting room with a charming decoration. Black glasses, black plates, all with golden details. Satoru Gojo himself payed for it, not that he knows or care. You commented once, Nanami liked, and moved his toys in favor of buying the expensive kitchen utensils you wanted. He even made sure to get some for your own house.

The last part is closing the thick black curtains around the room, for privacy. Someone comes inside the second you step back from the last tapestry, and when you turn, Nanami is there.

“How’s everything?” His fingers press on the table, moving swiftly with him, closer to you. “You’ve got cookies?” There is amusement in his question.

“Mr. Gojo’s secretary, Suguru, told me he was craving something sweet.” You turn back to the table behind you, stacking the sweet in a small mountain. “He always gets fussy if he doesn’t get his daily large intake of sugar.”

You grabbed one, knowing that half of it was rightfully yours, and twisted on your heels. Nanami scared you in two sequential situations after that. The first being his looming presence right in front of you, piercing gaze on you, shifting between your eyes. He was searching for something in it, so, you tried the hardest you could to give him something back. Eyes that said “please, fuck me.”

Maybe it worked. The next thing he did, that scared you, was bending down and biting your cookie. Eyes never leaving yours. You gulped, he smirked.

“Please, fuck me.”

He chocked.

See, your eyes were supposed to be the one speaking for you, but Nanami also has this super power that no one can lie to him. He wants something, he gets it delivered in a silver plate. He knows everyone’s secret, and yours were never safe, just happened to be hidden in a line of things that weren’t priority for him. Not until now, at least. He wanted to know what you were hiding, and you gave it to him.

“I ──” The words are struck behind your teeth. Nanami eagerly waits for them. “I’m so sorry.”

And with that, you leave him.

In a perfect world, he would have grabbed you by the wrists and fucked you against Satoru’s side of the table. But it’s not, because he lets you go. He has to let you go, even if you know that’s not the end of it. He will get you later, and like a little kid in science class, he will dissect everything you said. Therefore, during the thirty minutes of freedom you are granted in the bathroom, before the meeting starts, you try and fail and try and fail to conceal your thoughts into a perfect lie.

It doesn’t work. Not even a bit. Because Nanami knows you like the back of his hand, as much as he knows everyone that works with him. He knows when you lie and when you are truthful, and thanks to that, your work relationship had always been good ── you’ve never lied to him to stroke his ego. You were too busy wanting to stroke something else. Nanami let you slide your nasty comments about others, and he would share them, granting you some of their secrets.

He was a gossiper. He knew everything. You knew right there that lying would never work with him, so you just avoided to let him reach that horny part of yours that burned for him. Give him something else to sink his attention into. Your neck, you wanted, but rather you would feed him with gossips from your college classes, or what you got from Suguru Geto, your friend and Satoru’s assistant.

Now, you had already run out of distractions. Maybe that was his plan all along. If the world is correct, and it all falls down to Nanami’s desires, then maybe he was just waiting for you to crumble and admit. You had never been subtle with your eyes, anyway. That’s why he had been so fascinated about it, staring from time to time, trying to catch a glimpse of your true self, like a wishing star in a starry night.

The stars have gone dark, burned and busted away, when you come back to the meeting room and sit down on your designed chair, by his side. Nanami is focusing at you, again, like he needs more of your secrets at this moment. You have never gave him something so largue before, he is addicted.

But you, stubborn, appalled, stoic and all, think your plate of pasta is the most interesting thing in this whole world. You don’t eat much, because your throat is filled with all the words and screams you want to let out. You fear if you so much breathe loud, it will all come flooding this room.

“Are you annotating all of this in your head?” Nanami whispers in your ear, referring to the meeting now in progress. You sign no, and he sighs. “Your mind is far away, today.”

“Sorry.”

“What should I do with you?”

Someone coughs. An old man, standing by the edge of the table. He wants Nanami’s eyes on him, the praise, the goodness. Kento grants him half a smile, and that is not enough. Never will be. Everyone always wants more.

The lights are turned off when the projector is brought by Suguru, he comes and goes quickly, not before stealing a cookie from Satoru. That’s the first smile you present since the incident, and Nanami is back at staring at you with an intensity your heart fears but your pussy drips for. Are you scared? Petrified. And still, you are fucking horny.

He knows your secret, he is devoting his eyes to you, no matter what anyone else wants. He, in this moment, wants you. It might be because he needs to know what you meant, it might be because you are stroking his ego, finally. Or, you dare wonder, he is debating throwing you on that table and fucking you. Old men and Satoru aside, you wouldn’t mind. At all.

You take courage to look at him, and instantly you stare at his lips first, before his eyes. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. You go back at eyeing the projector. He does the same a long beat later. An even longer one, he slowly puts his hand on your exposed thigh, skirt raised since you set down.

You try to not fail in your stoic face, but you do so anyway. Because, for fuck’s sake, Nanami Kento has his hands on your thigh, his thumb in circular movements. Your lips instinctively curl up, he snorts by your side before going back to his serious demeanor.

You thought he would just keep his hands there, as if testing the water but deciding to stay near the shore. That’s not his case, though. Nanami loves to go to the beach, to swim far away beyond the waves, he likes to get damped. His hand move closer, and you open your legs absentmindedly. He wants, you give. As much as you have wanted, and now he is giving you.

When his hands are pressing against your lacy underwear, you hear a little “Fuck” coming from his mouth. You’re soaking wet.

It’s hard to keep your breathing pattern steady when he is near you. Even more harder when he has one finger slowly penetrating you. For the outsider viewer, everything is normal, and the two of you are just concentrated on the projector screen. The truth is you have no idea what’s going on, and maybe neither does him. You want to moan, and tug his hair until he groans. And you want him to replace his finger with his cock. You stare at the annotation book, empty of your handwriting, and use the opportunity of your head down to hang your mouth open and close your eyes.

Nanami shifts his eyes to you, and he drowns himself into your fucked gaze, even more so when he puts another finger. He can’t linger much, or others will notice, so he decides to keep his movements fluid and calm, and to stare at you from time to time.

He can multitask. Of-fucking-course. He asks questions, answers, he acts as if he is one hundred percent into whatever is going on. The reality is different. The truth is all about his curling fingers pressing themselves in a place inside you that will forever mark his presence there. Like a secret plaything only for him, no one, not even you, will ever reach that. It’s like he is signing it with either his name only or a “Nanami was here.”

You want him to stay, forever. Stay inside you, slow pacing, curling, sensitive.

He can’t, because what feels like hours later, turns into minutes. Everyone is raising up to leave, and he moves out of you so fast, you clench around nothing ── had you been quicker, grabbed his fingers, they all would know. You don’t give a fuck, you want them too know.

“Go to my office.” He whispers before going the opposite direction of the exit, and staying back to talk with the others. You walk without a goodbye, creating an excuse when Satoru wants some of your time.

Inside his office, you feel like breathing for the first time. It’s confusing, like your lungs are new and not fully connected to your esophagus, so it comes up weird ── in a mixture of laugh and relief, salted with a “what the actual fuck”.

You want to stop and think of what’s happening or what’s to happen, but you never had the chance. It’s a second later, and you are being pressed against his, now, locked door. His arms holding your hips, his head resting on your neck, sulking your scent much like you do with his.

“You meant it, right?” He asks, bringing his face up to yours. “You want me to fuck you. Please, darling, say you do, because I need to fuck you now, or I’ll go crazy.”

“Yes, please, please.” Midway through your desperate nod, Nanami lunged at you, catching your lips in his and conducting the rhythm, the strength.

He was so, so good. In all ways. His slow fingers had your legs shaking and his eager kiss has your mind fogged. All that he does seems to be professional, but you know deep down, this effect is all because is made by him. Just his presence alone could have you hot and bothered, but to actually be touched by him, it’s like adding the fire to your gasoline self.

You had always been meant to be burned by Nanami.

He hoist you up against the door, for a quick second his hands kept clawing your thighs, until he walked you both to his desk. He let you down on it, and at the same time, his kisses moved to your neck and shoulder. You could feel the scrape of his teeth, tempted to mark you with a significant bite ── tell them I’m yours, you thought.

He groaned against your flustered skin, because he knew he couldn’t do that. Mark you, that’s it. Fuck you? Oh, that he can, that he will do.

“I need you to be really quiet for me.” His hands are quick on his belt, dropping it with a thud against the floor. He raises your skirt to your waist, Nanami grumbled under his breath with the sight of your underwear. He had touched the elaborate details earlier, but to see it was another story. White, see through, a pink ribbon on the top. “I’m going to rip it.”

“No, you’re not!” Raising your leg, you pushed him away. Eyes still hypnotized by your clothed cunt. You removed the piece with a satisfied smirk. It had been months since you started to wear those type of under-wears, hoping one day this situation would come.

No one wants to fuck their sexy boss with granny’s pants.

The cold table coming in contact with your intimacy made you moan a bit, and Nanami’s attention was back on you. There you were, beautifully waiting for him. Fuck-me eyes, pleading mouth, hands gripping the edge of the desk. You were at his mercy, had been for a while now. And he? Well, Nanami was yours now, that’s what matter.

One of his fingers, the same one he had penetrated you earlier, came back inside you. Smearing itself with your wetness. His other hand gripped your hips, bringing you closer, and making him go deeper. There, right fucking there. He curled, and thrusted, and another two more out of nowhere.

Cruelty was not on the way he was ravishing your cunt, but the biting of your teeth on your hand. You have to be quiet, follow his orders, but Nanami seemed to want to make you scream. Let everyone know that he is fucking you. Nearly fucking you.

Combining this movements with the ones of earlier, you feel your insides getting tighter. He senses as well, and raises his peace once more. But, again, your legs push him away. Nanami doesn’t like that, he comes back quick, wet fingers anxious to reclaim their place inside you, but you sign no, and he halts. That’s it. The man that controls everyone, and he is at your mercy.

“I want to cum on your cock.” Maybe is the sweet and diabolical way you say, or the tilting of your head with a charming smile. What matters is, he complies right away. His pants fall, he takes off his blazer, and not a second later you are presented with what you’ve been craving for months.

Like a pregnant lady, you almost cry and fall on your knees, finally having your desire attended. He doesn’t want that either, instead Nanami takes a condom from his wallet. Before he puts it, his waiting fingers touch your cunt again, grabbing a bit of your liquid and smearing it on himself. You nearly ask him to throw the condom away.

Is a sinful sight. All of this. You on the desk, legs wide open. He in front of you, adjusting himself on the condom. Both groaning when he, fucking finally, align with your entrance, and slowly gets in. He is largue, and thick, and preparation might have been necessary had you not been daydreaming of this moments months ago.

Had he not been himself, that man that makes you drip with just a “good morning”, this might have hurt. Instead, it’s exhilarating to be parted by his cock. The condom does not stop you from feeling his veins tickling your walls, or his tip finally setting near your cervix. That was fucking new. Pleasant and scary, and fucking welcome as well.

“Say it again,” He asks, hands on both your hips and eyes looking over yours. Waiting for the stars to fall over the two of you. “tell me to fuck you.”

“Fuck m──” He doesn’t wait for you to end before he removes himself, and going back with a gushing sound. You nearly scream out of pleasure, but in the last second, you bite your lips strong enough to draw some blood. “Mmh, you fucking a-asshole.” He snorts at that, before slapping your thigh.

Seems that Nanami can do all the noises he wants. He groans against your skin, head hanging low to stare at the way you pussy suck his dick in and out. You have always been a good girl ── his good girl. Taking all the he gave you. Mostly work related, and now his cock. You truly were made just for him.

“You feel so fucking good, baby.” A moan scapes your hands, and he doesn’t bother spanking your leg again. He called you baby, and you’re strangling his dick perfectly. You can shout at this point, he is pussy fucked.

Removing your hands from your mouth, you decide to do something much better than guarding your pleasure. Instead, you open his button-up blue shirt. A dream come through, is what this day will be remembered as. Specially now, where he lets you do as you pleases, and you have the sight of his pecks ── bronzed from a beach trip he took last week, and glistening with sweat for your recent activities. You moaned again, before going for it, and marking him.

Nanami allowed you to do so. He only cared about holding your hips and raise your lower body, so he could make you meet his thrusts halfway. He didn’t hold a care in the world about his groaning getting louder, or the burning on his neck and chest caused by your eager mouth and teeth. Fuck that. Fuck everyone. The only thing he truly wanted was to be inside of you forever. To be planted in this moment of his life, on loop, being marked by you, having his cock milked out by your dripping cunt. That’s what his life was made for.

Nanami Kento had this aura that made everyone scramble for him and his left-overs, as a way to keep close. To say they have something that once was his. Because everyone knew that Nanami was no one’s property. This moment, this fuck, this pussy proved that statement to be contraire ── he was yours. From the first day he saw you and specially one hour ago, when he had eaten your cookie and you told him to fuck you. He knew right then that he would shift the whole balance of the world to give you what you want.

And if that’s his aching cock, fucking be it. It’s yours. You’re taking it so good, and barely paying attention to it. He keeps bruising your cervix, and you respond with little whimpers and more bites. He quicken his peace, you close your legs around his waist, as if giving him more opening.

A perfect synchrony.

“Wan’ to cum.” You mumble just right after he senses your wall get tight.

“C’mon, baby, ugh, cum f’me.”

“Mmh, fuck, ngha.”

You do right after, going limp on his arms, he slow his thrusting with a snort and laying you down on the desk. He shuffles something by your dazed-self side, before he brings a black sharpie near your cleavage. He kisses and licks and sucks on it, before opening the pen with his mouth, and signing a straight line.

“How many more can you give me, pretty?” You don’t answer in words, but with more quiet whimpers, when his thrusts go back to pounding you in a maniac pace. He holds your neck down, leaning to kiss you through your beautiful moans.

You’re sensitive, he knows. Because you keep closing more and more around his length, trying to make him cum, unknown to you that it only makes you closer to coming again. You hit your head on the desk when trying to follow his departed lips, Nanami has your neck again on his mouth, tasting your sweat and lotion, and all you can give him. It’s only when he bites it slightly, you release yourself once more.

“Mmph, fuck, fuck, argh.”

Nanami keeps jerking his hips onto yours, not even having cum once. He takes pleasure in yours, you can see. With a proud smirk, he grabs the sharpie once more, but this time, he makes a diagonal line that touches the top of the first.

“Mhm──!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, baby. Just a bit more.” He cooed at you, sweet tone diverging from his animalistic movements.

You’re not complaining, not even regretting. So you keep yourself down and let Nanami control both of yours fun. He is ruthless in his pace and fantastic with his kisses, he doesn’t mind your moaning anymore, or the fact that everyone on your floor already knows. What can they do? Stop you? Nanami will rip everyone apart and just return to your pussy. Threaten him? No one would dare. He is still their sweetheart, their most sacred prize, beautiful and shinning to look at. Never to have.

“I’m, ugh, I’m yours.” He grunts.

This time, you sense a shift in his thrusts. So methodical now sloppy, and his cock kept twitching inside of you, sending more waves of pleasure to your core. Yes, fucking finally, he was near.

“All fucking m──mine.” You agreed with his words, grabbing the back of his neck and slamming your lips together. “I’m yours, always had been.”

Nanami can’t even control himself anymore. He groans and pants as he releases himself inside you. With a mist of swearing and praises you could barely decipher. After all, his own release had triggered yours.

When you both had come back from the high, Nanami raised himself from your chest, and kissed you, tongues intertwining, teeth clashing and biting. When he parted, leaving you breathless, he had then pen in his hand again. It touched your skin, once more, connecting from the bottom of his last line, going up straight.

It’s a “N”.

“You think we can spell my name?” He asks, leaving your inside to throw his condom out. He opens a drawer, where a box with more is presented.

“That would be more 17 fucks.” You support your weight on your elbows while counting.

“It’s that a no?”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up your throat, before beckoning him closer. He does right away, kissing you hungrily once more. As if he is trying to record forever the taste of your mouth. He has your hair in his fists, pushing it back so he can go back to your, now, heavily marked neck.

“Let’s see how far can we go.” You indulge into his crazy erotic idea.

Nanami smiles triumphantly. He removes himself from your body, but doesn’t put condoms, instead, he falls on his knees, diving straight for your pussy.

Hours later, the sun beginning to set on the horizon, you leave his locked office with a smug smirk and timid eyes. Both accompanied by messy hair, flushed cheeks, marked neck and… “Nana” written on your chest.

“We’ll finish this later.” He comes behind you, closing his shirt, but letting the top buttons opened enough to catch a glimpse of your love marks on his chest. Specially the one with “Mine” marked in it.

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euthymiya · 1 month ago

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rumors — ft. kamisato ayato

@ficsforgaza kinktober day 3 — kamisato ayato + creampie

synopsis: you hear people whisper about the one thing you and ayato lack. an heir. your husband is more than happy to silence those whispers with his own methods

includes: 1.6k word count (i tried to keep it short i’m sorry it exceeded the limit) ; female wife reader ; 18+ mature content (no minors!) ; talks of pregnancy and children ; implied arranged marriage ; fingering, unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; slight breeding kink thrown in too oops

notes: @resibonin manuuuu my love tysm for indulging me with a request like this i was so excited when i was told what jr was <3 i hope i did your request justice and tysm for donating to this cause!! <3

“There’s something troubling you,” Ayato hums.

You send a fleeting glance at his figure. He’s sat at the desk he’s placed in the corner of your shared chamber as he looks up from his papers to meet your eyes. It’s to be closer to you, he’d said the night he set it up, beaming proudly at himself. Ayato does not like to do work in his office when you are sitting alone in bed. He finds it troublesome to concentrate when his mind drifts to you.

Ironically, he hardly ever does any work when he’s near you, too.

“What do you mean?” You set your book down, raising an eyebrow.

He quirks his lips up into a knowing smile, one that makes you feel shy already as he purrs, “I can see it on your face. There is something on your mind.”

He’s right. There is something on your mind. Regrettably, word spreads in Inazuma quickly.

You’ve heard…rumors. They mainly target you. Often about your ability to carry an heir, perhaps, or even your willingness to. You’ve heard them through hushed whispers in the estate and through loud conversations while passing in town.

It’s not true, of course. You’re not unwilling nor unable. In fact, you think an heir would be nice—it’s just that you have yet to discuss such matters with Ayato.

(You don’t know how to. It’s easier with Ayaka than it is with your own husband to discuss the future of your marriage potentially taking place. You don’t know if it’s time to take the step yet—your wedding was a small, quiet affair and arranged quickly enough that you didn’t fall for Ayato until some time into your marriage. It only made sense at the time to have the maids fetch you tea from the sakura blossom after things turned more…intimate in your development with Ayato.)

You love him, though—as does he love you. So much so, that he notices the signs of something wrong before you’re even aware you’re projecting them.

“I’ve just been thinking of the public, is all,” you say vaguely. You should know by now Ayato would never settle for accepting that.

“What about them, my dear wife?”

“Th-they speak, my lord,” you whisper, not meeting his gaze. Equal parts because you have a sense of shame (that Ayato does not) and equal parts because he will surely be amused should you look into his eyes.

You’re right—you can hear the amusement in his tone when he murmurs, “Is that so? And what, pray tell, do they speak about?”

“Us,” you huff indignantly. “They…have much to discuss when it comes to our matters.”

“We are deeply influential people in this nation, my dear,” he chuckles. You throw him a glare that he easily grins wider at, “Surely, a few comments about political cornerstones such as ourselves are to be expected?”

“But they’re shamelessly invasive, Ayato,” you all but squawk. If not for your mother’s strict lessons of primness, you’re certain you’d have lost your composure on your husband far earlier into this conversation.

His eyes narrow playfully, a sort of look on his face you don’t like. He has an upper hand you can’t quite put your finger on—but he’s a step ahead. That much you know.

“Tell me, my dear. What is it that they speak of that crosses these boundaries you’re so worried about? Tell me and I shall handle it so my precious wife can rest in peace. I wouldn’t want it to keep you up at night.”

“Very funny, Ayato,” you spit. You don’t meet his gaze as you opt for staring at your fingers, fiddling them in your lap as you mumble quietly, “They…they speak of an heir, my lord. M-more specifically, the lack of…the lack of one being conceived by…”

“By who?” He plays dumb, eyes sparkling as you glare at him sharply.

“By us, you utter fool,” you throw your hands up. Your mother would be truly disappointed in your slip of composure, but Ayato has a fierce way of settling under your skin.

An itch you’ll never reach no matter how deep your nails sink into your skin.

“Ah,” he nods slowly, “So they’ve taken to commenting on the lack of our children, is that it?”

“Yes,” you hiss. “And I do not appreciate it.”

“Then I shall have to dirty my hands and fix this issue, no?”

Your eyes twinkle at that, finally happy with the words of your husband as you nod earnestly. “Yes, my darling husband. It would be very much appreciated should you put an end to these abysmally shameless comments.”

“Alright then,” he grins wickedly.

A part of you feels a bit bad for the poor victim of Ayato’s problem solving process. He’s a bit swift with the punishment he deals—and effective too, when it comes from the shadows. People fear what they cannot control. Your husband is one of those things.

Except he does not seem to take matters into his hands the way you expect him to. He’s standing, walking up to you where you sit on the bed, eyes hungry and predatory in a way you’re all too familiar with, and all too unprepared for.

“What—what are you…” you stutter as he hovers over you, his lips slowly kiss up your neck, settling against your pulse point to suck gently.

“I am dirtying my hands to solve the problem,” he murmurs, voice deep and sultry enough that you shiver from the sound alone. “If, perhaps…there is an heir inside of you…well, you see what I mean, don’t you? The comments will surely have to cease.”

“W-what? B-but—”

“Ayaka tells me you often think of the joys of motherhood. You seem particularly fond of a child with my eyes, it seems? Perhaps you should indulge your husband of such desires instead of your sister-in-law. After all, I am much more fit to offer a remedy to your longing.”

“Oh,” you gasp, just as his fingers wander up the edge of your gown and slip past your panties, sinking into your cunt. “P-please…”

“Please what? Give you an heir? One with my eyes and your smile, perhaps?” He teases.

You nod. Desperately so. Ayato can tease you all he wants, you decide—he might feel like he’s won some one sided battle by pushing at your buttons, but in the end the building pressure between your legs feels like a much larger win.

And it is. You cum on his fingers easily—partly because he’s good with them. Good with you. He knows what you like and where you like it, just like a dutiful husband.

So, like a dutiful wife, you spread your legs and accommodate him. His cock is hard, leaking with a generously large amount of pre cum that you know is not a coincidence. He shivers as the tip pushes past your folds, a low, breathy groan that he lets out right against the shell of your ear as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he curses, “You are divine, do you know? You feel it too.”

“Less talking,” you whine, “Move, Ayato.”

“As you wish,” he laughs. It’s a sweet sound—despite his ability to irk you often, you are quite fond of your husband. In love with him, even—enough so, that simple joy on his face makes a flutter in your belly that you’re sure he feels through a particularly tight squeeze around his cock.

He groans, letting out soft, labored pants against your ear as his hips thrust sharply into you, the thick head of his cock nudging past your folds and burying deep into the spongy spot in the back that he has memorized.

“More, more, more—” you chant, “‘M s-so close—”

“Already?” He gasps, a smug, lopsided smirk on his lips. You glare up at him before wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him into your cunt deeper. Closer. Harder.

“O-oh, Gods,” he moans, stuttering his hips for a moment before they fuck into you harsher, a sloppy and quicker pace that lacks his earlier rhythm. His tip angles to hit sensitive parts of you that only Ayato discovers.

He’s close, you can tell by the sloppy tempo of his thrusts. You’re closer, and you know he can tell because he quickens that tempo if only a little.

It’s enough to make pleasure erupt a second time, rolling through hot waves along your body as your walls flutter around him. They squeeze him tight—enough that he whines before releasing his own cum into you.

“I shall fill you to the brim,” his voice is low. There’s a promise in his tone as he continues, “As many times as I have to. Until you are walking around this estate swollen with my child for all to know that I’ve done this. Me.”

“You,” you agree through a whimper, clenching around him at the words. “F-fill me up, Ayato.”

Thick and hot, his seed fucks deep into your walls, sharp thrusts of his twitching cock burying it further and further until you’re sure being full of his seed even just this once will leave you swollen with his child. He seems to think it, too, because his eyes are transfixed between your bodies, dazed as he watches the mess of his cum leaking from your cunt and dripping down your thigh in a thick, slow rivulet.

“Had your fill?” You ask tiredly when he finally finishes, slowing to a stop. You roll your eyes as he throws you a wolfish grin.

“Perhaps for now,” he drawls, “I shall stay inside of you like this for a bit to ensure it takes.” He presses his hips closer to yours, softening cock burying deeper into your cunt for emphasis as he sinks his weight over you. You roll your eyes and bury your hand into his sweaty hair.

“So what takes?”

“My seed, of course,” he says as though it’s obvious.

“Ayato!” You squeal, slapping at his shoulder as he laughs.

“Be sure to let the maids know that you will not be needing the sakura blossom tea. Or perhaps…perhaps I’ll tell them myself—they’re good at gossiping. You might not have to worry about the comments of the public for long.”

“You are exceedingly troublesome, my darling husband.”

“Do you love me for it?”

“Unfortunately, I do,” you grin. He kisses you, and you can’t help but melt and reciprocate—in the future, it might be difficult to enjoy such moments of intimacy should a child be born.

You figure you should enjoy your husband while he’s yours alone for as long as you can.

I think this is slightly more plot build up than it is smut. The smut was rushed for the sake of the word count limit so this definitely isn’t my best piece but I hope it was still a decent read </3

#writing tag #ayato x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #ayato x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #ayato smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x you #kamisato ayato smut

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harmonysanreads · 6 months ago

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as Sunday's canon wife, what do you think about a reader who, whenever sitting or just near Sunday, gently takes a glove off of his hand and just holds the bare hand. when he looks at you in question you give a smile and he asks himself why he loves you but then smiles back because you're adorable.

maybe you'd even push your fingers through the gaps in his gloves instead-

(also I am yet to play the quest so ignore this if it's out of character for him)

With each passing day, I feel like we share a telepathic connection Zuri, because I was JUST about to make a post about Sunday and his gloves :o

Hear me out, white gloves in particular have symbolized class and cleanliness. For someone as tidy as Sunday moreover, they're an inconsequential part of his daily life. I hc that he even carries extra pairs with him just in case. And for that man to take them off himself or to allow someone else to do it, is a big deal.

Sunday is touch starved, which he didn't quite realize until he met you. It's not that he's been deprived of them, but the touches he's had to exchange were meaningless formalities and they never permeated the barrier of his gloves. You are the only one deserving of that privilege, so whenever Sunday shares a moment with you without external interferences, he makes sure to take off his gloves — actually, that's not enough, he'll even wash his hands before touching you ; you shouldn't come in contact with the filth that he regularly deals with.

The very first time you held hands without any restrictions, Sunday couldn't go for more than a few minutes because he felt like he was seeing stars. Please don't misunderstand, he likes it!Just give him a moment to process all the feelings. He sincerely hopes you won't quit with your advances thinking he's uncomfortable, but if you do, at least he'll know that you respect his boundaries ; way to go, making him fall harder.

But now arrives a different problem, Sunday loves feeling your touch with his bare hands so much that he craves for it even in public settings. But he has an image to maintain and he really doesn't want to deal with more barrages of back handed comments on his apparent “favoritism”. Please don't go holding hands or being touchy with anyone else in the meantime, he isn't as put together as appears inside.

#why am i writing him like a victorian man lmaooo #it's fun though #i will establish the comedic potential of a yandere sunday one day just wait #also me?? sunday's canon wife?? ahahahahahaha #being with sunday would be like being with a more traumatized and powerful version of myself lololol #teabutmakeitazure #sunday #sunday brainrot #yandere sunday #yandere x reader #sunday x reader #sunday hsr #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail

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spidermanifested · 2 months ago

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heres MY rambly black sails analysis for the day, after watching the show twice in as many months i wholeheartedly believe in the "long john silvers quote unquote missus in treasure island is max, not madi" theory

the most obvious thing, as others have pointed out, is that in treasure island long john silver runs an inn with his wife, a black woman, in bristol, which is absolutely not madi behavior-- i cannot imagine madi would take him back in the first place much less move with him TO ENGLAND-- but IS maxs exact area of expertise. but theres so many other things that cement it for me

as early as episode 2, max tries to convince eleanor to buy out the inn and run it together with her when england takes nassau back. this is her dream-- to share power over her life with a woman she loves, free of the pressures of the outside world. (youll note this also happens to be silvers dream for himself and madi. the parallels)

in season 4 shes faced with the suspiciously similar option to take a husband to be the face of her business, completely on paper, for the sake of the public eye. and she refuses! she doesnt want to give a man that kind of power over her. not only that but she desperately wants to retain some kind of truth in her identity-- she admires anne for her honesty, her courage. these are things she can rarely afford to express. in refusing a marriage of convenience, she asserts her autonomy.

But. black sails tells us over and over again that an oppressive society will always find ways to batter down these private boundaries. there is no island safe from colonial rule. mirandas peaceful house in the interior is burnt to the ground. the maroons are forced to accept a freedom that comes at the price of abandoning those still enslaved and taking part in their continued subjugation. the things it takes to make these spaces are terrible, and unsustainable, and when it comes to being gay in the 1700s there is a tightrope to walk between privilege and privacy, one that destroyed flint and the hamiltons, thats even narrower to max as a self-made woman of color.

given all that, i do not believe she can girlboss her way out of her circumstances no matter how many lessons she took from what happened to eleanor. nor do i think the show believes it. i think the political-marriage-offer plot point is another illustration of that theme-- maxs desire, and silvers desire, to build a warm, happy room in the middle of the imperial machine, without meaningfully striking out against the machine itself, is destined to be futile no matter how strong they are as individuals.

max and silver are mirror images of one another. each of them is essentially the narrator of one half of the story. it is absolutely agonizing how BOTH of them tried to convince their lovers to abandon their ambitions, to settle for a quiet life with them, and in doing so saw that relationship destroyed by their own fear of an uncertain future....

....And its even MORE agonizing to imagine them finally securing the trappings of a domestic life... but without the love. and they know the love was what mattered! theyre always going to know!!!

it bookends PERFECTLY with their alliance at the start of the series. theyre right where they started, trusting no one, pretending to be humble and harmless, planning to steal the EXACT SAME TREASURE, except now theyre 50 years old and jaded and bitter and both pining after their lost loves. silver probably pictures madi whenever he tells people about his wife. when he and max have time to themselves they talk solely about finances and nothing else. its honestly impressive how miserable this is for every single person involved. im losing my mind

#black sails #black sails spoilers #john silver #max black sails #manifesting spiders

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simonbrain · 3 months ago

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simon x reader except the scary dog privileges go both ways

everyone knows not to mess with lieutenant riley, just one look at him and you see why. but there's always something sticking by his side – someone that manages to be off-putting to people in a totally different way and gives them a good reason to just stay away.

his lovely wife, his birdie that could do no harm. he won't say anything about the way you glare daggers at other people when they look at your man for too long or the way you squeeze his thigh when you notice a woman attempting to flirt with him right in front of you, almost baring your teeth at her as you tell her he's taken, quite happily (they always look at you weirdly before scoffing and walking away).

he won't say anything about that glint in your eye he sees sometimes whenever he sees you looking at him – a look that he sees so often whenever you're staking your claim on him in front of others, but it always thrills him and always manages to get him chubbing up in his pants.

it doesn't help that you're quite closed off yourself, only speaking to simon and sometimes john whenever you're on base visiting, always sticking by simon's side and not saying a word. others have learnt to avoid you, not just because you're associated with simon, but because you're so fucking weird. simon doesn't mind though; he prefers it that way too.

his worries of leaving you unattended are soothed when he finds you giving one of the foolish recruits your signature glare after they tried hitting on you, one that makes them back off with a scrunched face, unnerved by your presence and expression. you didn't even say anything, just looked at them with all the hate and disgust you could muster. he'll have to deal with them later, but for now all he can do is walk up to you and slightly melt as your hard expression softens into one of relief and fondness.

your possessiveness knows no boundaries, and simon only had to test that theory out once to realise (he did nothing to stop a poor woman from flirting with him, wanting to see what you would do. you crushed a shot glass in your hand while staring at her with murderous intent, curtly asking her to leave him alone. the moment she ignored you and you stood up, simon de-escalated the situation and took you back home and patched you up, unsure if he should scold or fuck you first).

but for every moment you spend scaring off other people from you and simon in public, you're twice as sweet and soft with him in private. as much as he adores your devotion to him in front of others, he cherishes these moments a lot too.

#first post... is this anything #i know this might not exactly be scary dog privilege behaviour but i hope someone sees the vision #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #rainwrites 𐙚

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hoshifighting · 3 months ago

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HII i hope youre doing well, ive been binging your page and youre spoiling ussss 🫦🫦🫦 but i was wondering if i could request seventeen reaction to being hit on by another woman cs i always see jealous svt but what id it was reversed…

(cheol barely even looking at the woman….godbye…..)

seventeen x jealous reader

seungcheol barely glanced at her, his focus staying on you, only on you, always. there was a smug smile on his face as he noticed the way your expression darkened. “you're cute when you're jealous, you know?” he'd say, leaning in close. “don't worry, baby. you're the only one i see.” his hand would find its way to your lower back, pulling you closer, making sure everyone around knew exactly who he belonged to.

jeonghan would have a playful glint in his eyes as the woman tried to flirt with him. he wouldn’t even break eye contact with you, waiting to see if you’d react. when you stayed silent, he’d make his move, sauntering over to you with that naughty smile. he’d wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. “relax, love. you know no one else could ever compare to you,” the possessive glint in his transparent to show that he was going to assure you this in bed tonight.

joshua would politely set boundaries with the woman, making it clear he wasn't interested. you could see the gentle smile on his face as he walked back to you. “she was just being friendly,” he’d say, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. you’d try to hide your jealousy, but he’d see right through you. “you know you’re the only one I want, right?” he'd ask, his voice soothing. his hand would slip into yours, squeezing gently. “come on, let’s get out of here,” he'd suggest, his eyes never leaving yours.

junhui is always so charming, and it’s no surprise that women find him attractive. but the way he handles the situation leaves no room for doubt. his hands wander over you, not so subtly staking his claim. “don’t worry, babe,” he murmurs. “i’m all yours.”

soonyoung and public displays of affection were a given. as soon as the woman approached him, he’d immediately wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. his eyes would flash with annoyance. “sorry, but i'm taken,” he'd say bluntly, not even giving the woman a second glance. he’d turn to you, his expression softening.

wonwoo always been quiet, but he knows how to make you feel secure. when the woman starts flirting with him, he simply turns to you, his expression soft. “do you want to go somewhere else?” you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed, but he just smiles, pulling you close. “i’m not interested in anyone else,” he says. his hand slips under your shirt, resting on the small of your back.

woozi wouldn’t waste any time dealing with the situation. as soon as the woman tried to hit on him, he’d pull you close, his hand resting possessively on your ass. “i'm with my wife,” he’d say firmly. you'd know without a doubt that he was completely devoted to you. “jihoon?” “hm?” “am I your wife?” “oh— i—”

minghao would be calm but there’d be a slight edge to his voice as he ignored the woman. he’d turn to you, a faint frown on his face as he notices that you're actually mad. “you know i’m with you, right?” he'd gently cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “don’t let it get to you,” he’d murmur, his eyes searching yours. “you’re the only one I want.”

mingyu’s charm was undeniable, he’s a man who calls attention, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy when the woman started flirting with him. he'd flash her a polite smile, but his eyes would quickly find yours. “you know you have nothing to worry about, right? i only have eyes for you.”

seokmin would find the situation amusing, especially when he saw the annoyed look on your face. he'd flash the woman a bright smile before politely turning her down. “i have a girlfriend,” he'd say. he’d walk over to you. “you look adorable when you’re jealous, baby when we get home I'll show you that” he'd tease, gently pinching your cheek.

seungkwan wouldn’t hesitate to reject the woman, his tone sharp and even rude, making you a bit embarrassed. “ya! i'm taken, look at my ring” he'd say. he’d turn to you, his expression softening. “you okay baby?”

vernon would be slow to catch on, but once he realized the woman was hitting on him, he'd quickly shut it down. “oh! no, no, no,” he'd say, shaking his head. “i'm with someone.” he'd turn to you, a sheepish smile on his face. “sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he'd say, rubbing the back of his neck. he'd walk over to you, his hands slipping into yours. you can’t even be mad at him.

chan would be so nervous to handle the situation that he would say the first thing that cames up to his mind. when the woman hit on him, he'd give you an exasperated look, clearly annoyed. “i need to shit,” he'd say bluntly, making you burst into laughter. the woman would be left confused as he quickly excused himself, walking over to you with a grin.

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chukys-mouthguard · 4 months ago

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almost something

genre: angst, fluff ending

featuring: mat barzal x female reader

request: yes

note: longer fic adapted from this blurb

Pacing the floor, you couldn’t but wonder how much longer he’d leave you waiting. While you were used to waiting for most of the crowd to clear, that being part of the deal that you weren’t to show any PDA, this was getting excessive.

You and Mat weren’t dating, but you also weren’t just friends. It was fucking complicated and you hated it, to be blunt.

Watching all the girlfriends and wives adorned in their significant other’s jersey numbers, getting to kiss them after games no matter who was around, it hurt. That was all you ever wanted with Mat, but he unfortunately had his boundaries. Though you couldn’t be that mad because you did agree to them after all.

After 8 months you surely would’ve expected those boundaries to go away, yet here you were. Hiding in the corner, despite a handful of the guys knowing you and Mat were secretly a thing. And surely the WAGS would catch on to constantly seeing you around after games.

“Mat, wait!”

As soon as Mat appeared he was being called to the side by Bo Horvat’s wife. Rolling your eyes you resumed your spot against the wall and continued to wait.

“I wanted to introduce you to my friend Taylor.”

Mat smiled and said hello, the two chatting briefly before Mat excused himself, trying to not be rude but also not seem too interested.

As the crowd in the family area began to dissipate, Mat finally gave you the time of day.

“Hey you, ready to go?”

“Is it safe to talk to you? You sure no one is around?” Peeking left to right you joked, Mat not amused as he rolled his eyes.

“Oh hush. Don’t be so dramatic. You know I don’t want all the attention.”

Mat always had a different excuse. Sometimes it was wanting to be private with his relationships, others it was that he wasn’t ready to commit. You’d lost track of how many reasons he’d given for not being able to call you his girlfriend.

The things you’d wanted to experience with him all seeming like they’d never be yours to have. Wearing his jersey number proudly to games, flaunting your love for him on your social media, even just holding his hand as you left the arena. The littlest things seeming taboo to even bring up to him, knowing he’d tell you that we’ve had this conversation before.

But after this long, you had hoped that conversation would be different.

As you sat in the passenger seat of Mat’s car and headed home, you questioned how you’d ended up here. How did the first night you met, a chance encounter that almost seemed like fate, lead you to eight months of being an almost something secret to him?

As you swayed to the music, your third vodka soda giving you the liquid courage to let loose on your first night out in lord knows how long, you felt a hand lightly grab a hold of your waist.

Normally, you’d push away any creep that approached and tried to put a hand on you. But out of the corner of your eye you saw him, and you couldn’t help but blush.

“I was wondering if you were going to finally work up the courage to come over and say something.”

Sensing you were okay with his hand on your waist Mat moved in closer. The smell of his cologne flooding your system as you could feel the smirk on his lips as his face brushed against yours.

“Oh trust me, I wasn’t letting you get away without saying something. I told my friends that I had to make you mine.”

“Don’t say that if you don’t plan on backing it up.”

Though you’d met on a night out, Mat was serious about you, to a point. Not ghosting you the next day or letting you be a quick fling. And behind closed doors, he told you all the things you wanted to hear, did the things you’d expect of a boyfriend. But once in public, it was like none of that ever existed to him.

The entire car ride was silent, and he knew you were upset. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.

As he parked the car you two headed inside, you not bothering to let him open your door for you. Just wanting to get inside and go to sleep, try and avoid another argument over the same old story.

“Can you just talk to me? Say something?”

Mat pleaded as he followed you up the stairs to his bedroom, where you had already starting getting changed for bed.

“What do you want me to say? Because it’s nothing you haven’t heard one hundred times already.”

He sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching as you moved to the bathroom to take off your makeup. Knowing there wasn’t much he could say to try and make the situation better, because truly he didn’t have a good response.

“What do you want from me? I, I just don’t think it’s the right time to take things to the next level, with us.”

“Are you sure it’s just the timing that’s wrong Mat?”

He looked at you a bit taken aback as you’d raised your voice, not something typical of you. This wasn’t something you enjoyed discussing because it never got resolved, and with how long you’ve been going through this with Mat, the light at the end of the tunnel didn’t seem much closer. And you were growing tired.

“Do you remember what you told me the first night we met? That you told your friends I’m gonna make that girl mine. And it’s been eight months but you’re too fucking scared to commit and actually call me yours. You say it’s the timing that’s wrong, and this is best right now. Maybe it’s best for you, but it sure as hell hurts me.”

Mat watched as you tried to keep yourself calm, despite the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

“Seeing the wives and girlfriends get to wear jerseys, hug and kiss their significant others after games. Seeing them post their significant others on their social media. So many things I’d love to be able to do with you and I can’t, because I’m a big secret to you. So sure, you can say it’s the timing. But something tells me it’s way fucking more than that. And if that’s the case, that I’m not good enough to be more than just an almost something, then why the fuck am I here?”

Leaning against the bathroom counter you stared him down, waiting for him to say something, anything. His gaze fixated on the floor as sighed.

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth! Stop toying with my emotions and leading me on. I’ve been so fucking good to you for almost a year now, but I’m not good enough to be your girlfriend? Are you just taking advantage of having me around? I want to get to have you, every piece of you. After games, at team events, in fucking public. I don’t want to only get to have you in private.”

Your voice trailing off as you were exhausted of having this argument with Mat. Stopping yourself from getting worked up because what was the point? You’d have this fight, he’d do his best to convince you to stick around in the hopes of things getting better, but they would never change.

“Maybe I’m scared, okay?”

His voice barely above a whisper as he was unsure about his words. Though you were all ears, finally seeming like you would get some type of answer.

“Maybe I’m scared because I want those things, believe me I do. But I’m scared because I know what you deserve, and what if I can’t be that for you. This, no commitment, it’s easy for me. Because I’m not worrying about you constantly. I’m not wondering if I’m doing my job as a boyfriend. If I’m meeting your expectations. But if we take that next step, things are gonna change. And, I just, I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I like how things are, and I feel that’s how they should stay.”

Nodding your head as you took a deep breath, you weren’t even upset anymore. Just numb to the feeling of constantly not being good enough for Mat to fight for. Left feeling like there’s something wrong with you that’s making him scared to take the next step.

“You do realize, nothing would fucking change right? Just because I get to call you my boyfriend, that doesn’t come with a new list of rules or expectations.”

He sat in silence as you threw your clothes from earlier back on, not bothering to spend the night if he had made up his mind this wasn’t going anywhere. Needing to take some time and truly figure things out for yourself.

“I’m not interested in setting a standard, or forcing you to be any type of way, I just want to be able to look at you and know that you’re mine. To know that you tell people I’m your girl. I’m just sick and tired of being kept in the dark. So when you figure out whether or not you’re willing to lose me, over being too scared to take that next step, let me know.”

It had been a little over a week since you’d left Mat’s house following the argument. He’d reached out, but you weren’t quick to respond. Trying to give yourself time to decide if you were fine being strung along with no real possibility of commitment in sight. You wanted to move on, block his number and be done with him. But your heart couldn’t let you do that easily. The what ifs constantly in the back of your mind.

What if he finally gave you what you wanted? What if he finally did what he said he was going to do all those months ago? What if he stopped being so scared of shit that hasn’t happened yet?

Tonight the Islanders were back on home ice after a quick 2 game road trip, Mat sending you a ticket the morning of, per usual. And despite your anger over the situation between the two of you, you still decided to go, per usual.

He’d asked you to please come and see him after the game, regardless if deep down you were still mad and wanting to punch him in the face.

So there you were, claiming your familiar spot on the wall to watch all the wives and girlfriends greeting their significant others after the game. Soon enough Mat emerged from the locker room, Bo Horvat’s wife trying to connect him and her friend once again. This time Mat barely flashing a smile as he hurried over to you.

“You do realize there’s still tons of people down here right? They are obviously going to-“

Before you could finish Mat pressed his lips to yours, catching you off guard as your hands moved to cup his cheeks as you deepened the kiss. Heart racing as you were shocked by his actions, but not wanting it to stop. This being something you’d hoped for but never imagined happening.

As you pulled away, you noticed the looks on the faces of the wives and girlfriends. Slightly chuckling to yourself as you felt a blush coming over you.

“I’m not willing to lose you because I’m too scared to admit that I want this. I want you, and every piece of you. All the time, not just in private. And I want you to have every piece of me, regardless of who is watching.”

Brushing your thumb over his cheek you felt your heart ache at his words, completely unprepared to hear them despite wanting them for so long.

“I, I, I don’t even know what to say right now. I’m just, shocked!”

Mat laughed as he took your hand in his, leading you past the crowd and to his car.

“Well, for starters, you could say yes to being my girlfriend?”

#mat barzal blurb #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #nhl fics #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl blurb

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monzabee · 1 year ago

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hot girls support 44 – lh44

masterlist

Summary: The one where your husband realises that you are, indeed, his number one fan.

Pairing: lewis hamiton x wife!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: cursing? (i’m not even sure), and a whole lot of fluff

Request: “Hi can you do we’re Lewis Hamilton wife is with him to see one of his races but she leaves the garage for some reason and over hears someone talking bad about her husband and she snaps and tells them straight and Lewis is watching her from a distance like damn that’s my wife”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i don’t know if this classifies as a drabble but let’s just pretend it does because i realised that i can’t write anything under 1k? this was a very fun request to work on, so thank you to anon, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Both you and Lewis are private people when it came to your relationship. It has always been that way, with him leading a lifestyle in front of the cameras, and you preferring to stay away from those said cameras as much as you can. Over time, you both developed a rhythm, a delicate balance between Lewis's public persona and your desire for privacy. It was an unspoken agreement, an understanding that you valued above all else.. You knew how much Lewis's racing career meant to him, and you admired his ability to excel under the constant scrutiny. And in return, Lewis respected your wish for a quieter, more intimate life together. It was this mutual respect that solidified the foundation of your relationship, allowing it to thrive despite the challenges that fame and attention often brought.

That is not to say that you guys were completely private, of course. You’ve had your fair share of events the two of you attended as a couple, as well as races, but Lewis is always mindful of the fact that you don’t want cameras in your faces. In the early days of your relationship, the media had tried to capture glimpses of your relationship, eager to uncover every detail and learn more about the woman who finally made him give up his bachelor status. However, Lewis, being the fiercely protective partner that he was, had firmly set boundaries to shield your personal life from the prying eyes of the world. He cherished the sanctity of your bond and understood the importance of keeping certain moments sacred and away from the public eye.

The two of you have a special routine for the race days where you decide to join him on the track – you mainly spend your time inside the Mercedes garage, instead of lingering around where the cameras are most likely to be. However, you make sure to leave the garage for celebrations for those races where Lewis is up on the podium, celebrating him with the people who support him every step along the way whom he appreciates immensely; while the podium celebrations were reserved for the public eye, the garage held its own intimate victories. It was here that you celebrated the milestones and shared the unspoken triumphs, basking in the knowledge that your presence was an unwavering pillar of support for Lewis. But for the most part, you’re happy with your routine – it’s safe, familiar and it has worked for a very long time. So you don’t really know why you decided to take Roscoe on an impromptu tour of the paddock, especially when he gives you that look which clearly says that he would rather be taking his afternoon nap.

It's a good day despite the chaos everyone on the paddock seems to be in, but then again, there’s only a few hours until the qualifying session. So, in hopes of avoiding the human traffic, you decide to take Roscoe to a more secluded area in the back. As you walk, Roscoe happily wagging his tail by your side, you take in the sights and sounds of the paddock. The familiar smell of rubber and gasoline fills the air, mingling with the excited murmurs of fans and the distant roar of engines. It's a world you've come to know and appreciate, even if from a slightly different perspective. Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly hear voices growing louder as you approach a group of people gathered in conversation. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you slow your pace, intending to discreetly eavesdrop before continuing on your way. But as you get closer, you realize the topic of their conversation hits closer to home than you expected.

In hindsight, you know better to get involved in situations which might cause you to bother yourself with rude, petty people, but when it concerns your husband and everything that he has worked hard his entire life for, you don’t even hesitate. With the fierce protectiveness you feel inside, you clear your throat to get the attention of the engineers, “Excuse me,” you say as you give them a (fake) smile, “could you repeat that again, please?”

The group falls silent, their faces registering surprise and perhaps a touch of embarrassment. They exchange glances, seemingly unsure of how to respond to your unexpected intrusion. “We just meant that–” The man is quickly silenced by one of his friends elbowing him in the side.

You ignore the silent ow that comes from the man’s mouth and give the trio a stare down. “Well, I guess everybody is entitled to their opinions.” Your sweet smile and dulcet tone is enough to think them that everything is fine, but you’re quick to continue voicing your thoughts, “But that doesn’t give you the right to undermine a man’s hard work, especially when he has broken record after record and don’t even get me started on the fact that not only he is a pioneer in this sport, he is also a role model and inspiration to many and has impact beyond the track.” You let a frustrated hum, “Also, have some respect, the guy is an eight-time world champion.”

The guy who spoke before looks confused as he attempts to point out, “He won it seven–”

“Do you want me to let Roscoe attack you?” You ask as you point to the puppy sitting next to you, who, in hearing his name, looks up at you; all panting and happily sticking his tongue out.

Little do you know, Lewis had been watching the entire scene unfold from a distance, a mix of admiration and adoration in his eyes. He waits until the engineers leave in a hurry, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed on his chest. A smile tugs at the corners of Lewis's lips as he watches you handle the situation with such grace and confidence. As you turn around, ready to head back to the safety of the Mercedes garage, your eyes meet his, and a surge of warmth fills your heart. Walking towards you, Lewis closes the distance between you, his steps purposeful and full of pride. His arms quickly find their place on your waist as he mumbles, “Damn, that’s my wife.”

You roll your eyes at his antics, your face quickly mirroring the smile he gives to you. “Didn’t you see the sign? Apparently, ‘hot girls support 44’.”

“Is that so?” He hums, letting his hands wonder towards the back pockets of your jeans as he continuously presses kisses along your jaw, “It’s definitely right.”

As Lewis's lips trail along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine, you playfully swat at his chest. "Behave, Mr. World Champion. We're in a public place," you whisper, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside you.

Lewis chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with love and mischief. "Can't help it, love. Seeing you stand up for me like that, it's a turn-on," he teases, his voice laced with admiration. "But you're right, let's save the public displays of affection for later."

With a shared understanding and a silent promise, you and Lewis turn, making your way back to the familiar comfort of the Mercedes garage. In each other's presence, you find solace and strength, ready to face whatever lies ahead. And as Roscoe happily trots beside you, you can't help but feel grateful for the extraordinary life you share with the man who has captured your heart, both on and off the track.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fluff

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lila-lou · 2 months ago

Text

✨His true fate - Part 22/?✨

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!, SMUTTTT, Language, age gap, fluff

Word Count: 7322

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

You bit your lip, glancing down at Jensen, who was still seated in his chair, absentmindedly rolling his fingertips around as if lost in thought. His brow furrowed slightly, and you could see the traces of tension that lingered in his features despite the banter with Misha and Jared. There was something about the way he sat there, quiet and contemplative, that tugged at your heart.

You ached to be alone with him, to feel his arms around you and to kiss him in the way you could only do behind closed doors. It wasn’t something you could do in public—not with his friends so close by and the attention that always came with being around them. You understood that there were boundaries when it came to his world, boundaries you respected, but that didn’t make the longing any less.

You knew, though, that there were still many weeks ahead of you—weeks where you and Jensen could simply be together, away from the eyes of the public, away from the teasing remarks and the protective glances. There would be quiet mornings, late-night talks, and moments when it was just the two of you. That knowledge grounded you, helped you push aside the urge to retreat somewhere private with him right now.

Jensen must have felt you looking at him because his eyes slowly lifted to meet yours. The softness there—so different from the playful teasing just a few moments ago—said everything. He gave you a small, knowing smile, his hand reaching up to gently squeeze your fingers where they rested on his shoulder. His touch was reassuring, and you knew he felt it too—the desire to be alone, but also the patience that came with the understanding of your current situation.

You smiled back at him, trying to convey through that look how much you understood. He squeezed your hand one more time before slowly standing, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist once more.

"Alright", Jensen said, his voice steady but warm, pulling himself back into the moment. "Let's go get those drinks".

Jared grinned, clapping Jensen on the back. “That’s the spirit!”.

Misha smirked, leaning toward you both. “And maybe we can find a place with a dimly lit corner where Jensen won’t feel so uptight about showing some PDA”, he teased.

Jensen rolled his eyes good-naturedly but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at his lips. “Don’t push your luck, Misha”.

The four of you headed out of the room, the tension from earlier almost forgotten as the night awaited. And while you couldn’t indulge in everything you wanted to right now, you knew that those moments with Jensen—when it was just the two of you—would come soon enough. For now, you were content with the warmth of his arm around you and the promise of what lay ahead.

A few hours and a few drinks later, the four of you found yourselves tucked away in the back corner of a dimly lit bar. The atmosphere was warm, loud enough to provide privacy but not so noisy that you couldn’t hear each other. The low lighting gave the booth a cozy, intimate feeling, even amid the bar’s hum of activity. Drinks in hand, you all relaxed into the easy rhythm of conversation, the earlier tensions long forgotten.

Misha, ever the instigator, swirled his drink and leaned back against the booth, his eyes still wide with disbelief. “I just can’t believe no one knew about this whole… arrangement”, he said, looking pointedly at Jensen, shaking his head. “You and Danneel have been doing this for how long? And not one person in our circle knew?”.

Jensen sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his usual sign of discomfort when the topic veered into tricky territory. “Yeah, well, we kept it under wraps”, he said simply, his voice steady but cautious. “It wasn’t anyone’s business, you know?”.

Jared raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Wait, so all this time, while the rest of the world thought you two were the picture-perfect couple, you were…?”.

Jensen shrugged, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. “Like I said, we had an understanding. It wasn’t… what people thought it was. It worked for us. For a while”.

Misha shook his head again, clearly still processing. “So, you could just… do whatever you wanted as long as it was behind closed doors?”, he asked incredulously, his voice lowering slightly as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

Jensen chuckled lightly, more out of discomfort than humor. “Pretty much”, he admitted.

Misha leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. “So… does Danneel know about her?”, he asked, nodding toward you with an inquisitive raise of his eyebrow.

Jensen paused, his fingers toying with the edge of his glass as he considered how to answer. He hesitated for a moment longer before mumbling, “Partly”.

You furrowed your brow at that, shifting slightly in your seat as you looked at him. You weren’t aware there had been any partial knowledge, or what that even meant in this situation. Jensen glanced at you, reading the curiosity and mild confusion in your expression.

“She knows there’s someone”, Jensen began, his voice a bit quieter now, a touch of strain beneath the casual tone. “It’s not just the same kind of… casual arrangement we’ve both had before. This is different, and she knows that much. She knows it’s not just me fooling around”.

Misha’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth opening in a knowing “ah”. He took a long sip of his drink before saying, “And that’s what’s bothering her, huh?”.

Jensen nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the table as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “Yeah, it bothers her. She always knew we were both seeing other people—it’s part of the deal—but the idea that I might actually be serious about someone… well, that’s something different for her”.

You felt a pang of realization hit you. While you knew that Jensen and Danneel’s relationship had been unconventional for a while now, you hadn’t really thought about how it might impact her to know that what he had with you was serious. It added a new layer to everything, one that was more complicated than you had anticipated.

Jared, sensing the shift in the conversation, leaned forward, his tone more thoughtful now. “So… she’s okay with the arrangement as long as it’s just casual, but now that she knows it’s not, things are getting messy?”.

Jensen nodded, letting out a small sigh. “Yeah. That pretty much sums it up”.

Misha shook his head, leaning back in his seat. “Man, that’s gotta be tough. I mean, for both of you. Knowing it’s more than just a fling changes the whole dynamic”.

Jensen’s eyes flickered over to you again, his gaze softening as he reached for your hand under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Jensen took a deep breath, his fingers tightening around your hand as if drawing strength from the connection. He hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing his next words before finally speaking, his voice low and filled with a weight that hadn’t been there earlier in the conversation.

“Yesterday, before I flew out here”, Jensen began, his eyes fixed on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze for a moment. “I told Danneel that I wanted to end things… for good. Divorce”. He let out a small, bitter chuckle, shaking his head as he continued. “And… well, she didn’t take it well”.

There was a heavy silence at the table, everyone processing the gravity of what Jensen had just admitted. You could feel his tension radiating through his grip on your hand, and you shifted slightly closer to him, offering him as much comfort as you could.

Misha, always direct and curious despite the sensitivity of the subject, leaned even more forward, his voice gentler than usual. “What did she say?”, he asked, concern and a bit of hesitancy in his tone. It was clear that even Misha, usually the joker, understood the seriousness of the situation.

Jensen sighed deeply and shook his head slightly before speaking, his voice low and tinged with frustration. “She said a lot of things”, he began. “Mostly about how I was ruining everything—her life, our family, the image we’ve built together. She said I was making the biggest mistake of my life and that I’d regret it”.

He paused for a moment, swallowing hard, clearly still processing the confrontation himself. “She was angry, of course. She felt blindsided, even though we’ve been living separate lives for a while now. But the thing that really stuck with me… she didn’t talk about us or about love or anything like that. It was all about what she stood to lose”.

Jensen let out a bitter laugh. “I think that’s when it hit me—when I realized that this wasn’t about our relationship anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. It’s about the lifestyle, the reputation…”.

Jensen exhaled deeply, as if trying to physically push away the weight of the conversation. His grip on your hand softened slightly, and he forced a small smile, his expression shifting from the earlier tension. He looked at you, then back at Misha and Jared, and gave a dismissive shrug.

"But, you know…", he mumbled, his voice lighter now, trying to brush it off. "I’ve made up my mind. I’m filing for divorce. It’s just a matter of time now. She can say what she wants, but I’m done living that way".

He ran his fingers through his hair, and for the first time in the conversation, there was a small glint of determination in his eyes, mixed with something else—maybe relief. "So now… I’m here. I’m here to have a good time, especially with you", he said, turning his full attention to you, a real smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You smiled back at him, grateful for the shift in energy. You could see the relief in his eyes as he allowed himself to focus on the present moment, on being with you and his friends, rather than the complications waiting for him back home.

Misha caught the change in tone immediately and leaned back with a grin. “That’s what I like to hear”, he said, raising his glass once again. “To a good time, then. No more heavy stuff tonight”.

Jared followed suit, raising his own glass. “Yeah, man. We’re here, you’re here, and it’s time to relax. Let’s make the most of it”.

Jensen chuckled, the sound lighter and more genuine than it had been all night. He clinked his glass against Misha’s and Jared’s before turning to you, holding your gaze for a beat longer. “Here’s to that”, he said quietly, his voice warm.

The four of you raised your glasses, the earlier weight of the conversation dissolving into the background as the mood lightened. Jensen, now more relaxed, leaned back in his.

Eventually, after a night filled with laughter and drinks, you and Jensen found yourselves back in the bathroom of your hotel room. The atmosphere was calm now, the lingering tension from the evening finally melting away. You stood in front of the mirror, gently wiping away your makeup, wearing nothing but a soft silk robe that hugged your body.

Jensen stepped into the bathroom quietly, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed above his chest. His eyes watched you with a quiet intensity, taking in the sight of you as you focused on your routine. The soft lighting of the bathroom made the scene feel intimate, the quiet hum of the night contrasting with the lively energy you’d both left behind downstairs.

You caught his reflection in the mirror, his gaze soft but filled with that undeniable spark of admiration and something deeper—something more vulnerable than what he usually let others see. You smiled softly, finishing the last of your makeup removal and placing the wipe on the counter.

“You’re staring”, you teased gently, turning to face him, your fingers lightly adjusting the silk robe tied around your waist.

Jensen chuckled softly, his arms still crossed as he shifted his weight against the doorframe. “Can you blame me?”, he asked, his voice low and warm, filled with a mix of affection and something else you couldn’t quite place.

You stepped toward him, the smooth fabric of your robe brushing against your skin with every movement. When you reached him, you placed a hand on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath your palm.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”, you asked softly, looking up at him with curiosity. You could tell there was more behind his gaze tonight, something deeper lurking beneath the surface.

Jensen uncrossed his arms, one hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face as he let out a small sigh. “Just… thinking”, he said quietly, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “About tonight. About everything”.

Jensen’s hand moved gently across your back, his touch sending a warm shiver through you despite the soft tension in the air. His fingers grazed your spine lightly as if grounding himself in the moment with you. You noticed he was still dressed in his clothes from earlier in the day—jeans and a simple t-shirt that had somehow made him look effortlessly put together, even after everything the night had brought.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him through your lashes, your voice quiet and teasing. “I don’t know if I like this deep-in-thoughts Jensen”, you mumbled, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you tried to break through some of the lingering heaviness.

Jensen let out a small chuckle, his lips curving into a gentle smile as his thumb continued to trace the line of your jaw. “Yeah?”, he murmured, his voice soft. “Well, this version of me seems to show up more than I’d like lately”.

You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your fingertips, and you could tell he was still working through everything that had happened tonight—everything he’d been carrying for a while now. But even in the midst of all of that, there was a quiet intensity in the way he was looking at you, as if you were the calm in his storm.

“I think I like the relaxed Jensen better”, you teased, your fingers tracing light patterns over his chest. “The one who smiles more… laughs more”.

Jensen’s smile grew a bit wider, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll work on that”, he whispered against your skin.

His hand slipped under the loose fabric of your robe, resting on your lower back now, and he pulled you closer. You could feel the heat of his body radiating through his clothes, grounding you as you stood there in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“You know, you help with that”, he admitted, his voice still low but with a warmth that made your heart flutter. “It’s easier to let go of all the other stuff when I’m with you”.

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling at his words. “Good”, you whispered, resting your head against his chest for a moment. “Because I like seeing that side of you”.

Jensen’s arms tightened around you slightly, holding you close as the weight of everything seemed to melt away in the silence. It was just the two of you now, wrapped up in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

After a few moments, he leaned back just enough to look down at you, his gaze soft but more relaxed now. “Why don’t we change that deep-in-thoughts Jensen into something more fun?”, he suggested, his voice playful now.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking up at him. “Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”.

Jensen’s grin turned mischievous, and with a swift but gentle movement, he scooped you up into his arms, making you let out a surprised laugh.

Jensen’s grin widened as he carried you effortlessly out of the bathroom and towards the bed. You wrapped your arms around his neck, still giggling from the sudden movement, feeling a surge of warmth spread through your chest. There was something about the way he looked at you now—playful, yet filled with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

As he laid you down gently on the bed, hovering above you, he leaned down and brushed a few soft kisses along your jawline. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver through you.

“You know”, he murmured between kisses, his voice low and teasing, “earlier tonight, you said something about me… neglecting you”. He moved his lips down to your neck, his kisses feather-light and deliberate.

You felt a thrill at his words, biting your lip to suppress the smile threatening to spread across your face. “Mmm, did I now?”, you teased back, your fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him closer.

Jensen pulled back just slightly to meet your eyes, his gaze darkening with playful intensity. “Yeah, you did. You said I didn’t take my time with you. That I was too rough, too fast”, he continued, his fingers gently tracing the edge of your robe, teasing the fabric.

You could feel your heart racing at his words, your breath hitching slightly as he looked down at you with that mix of desire and affection. “Well, you were”, you teased, your voice light but carrying a challenge. “You didn’t exactly take your time earlier…”.

Jensen chuckled softly, shaking his head as he trailed his fingers down your side, leaving a heated path in their wake. “I suppose I owe you an apology then”, he murmured, leaning in closer again. “But maybe I can make it up to you… if you let me”.

You shivered under his touch, your lips parting slightly as you felt the weight of his words. He was close now, his face inches from yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.

“I’m listening”, you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, anticipation buzzing between you.

Jensen’s eyes darkened with a mix of desire and mischief as he hovered just above you. His hand slid slowly from your side to your waist, fingers grazing your skin lightly, sending shivers through you. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, his voice a low, sensual murmur.

“You know”, he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, “I could take my time with you. Make sure every touch, every kiss, is exactly what you need. I want to feel you tremble beneath me, see you lose control”.

His lips traced a line down your neck, his breath warm and teasing. “I want to make you forget everything but how good it feels when I’m inside you”, he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I want to draw out every moan until you’re begging for more”.

You felt your breath quicken, your body responding to his words with a mix of eagerness and anticipation. His hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your lips before leaning in to capture them in a tender kiss. It was a kiss that started slow and deep, building in intensity, just as he promised.

“You like the sound of that?”, he asked, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “I want to make sure you get exactly what you need tonight. Tell me what you want”.

You pulled Jensen closer by his neck, your fingers curling around his strong, warm skin. Your lips found his with a sense of urgency, the kiss deep and hungry as if you were both trying to make up for lost time. Jensen responded instantly, his hands moving to frame your face, his fingers tangling in your hair as he kissed you back with equal fervor.

The world outside seemed to disappear as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment. The kisses were both tender and demanding, a blend of passion and affection that had your heart racing and your body yearning for more.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured again, his voice low and rough, brushing his lips against yours lightly as he spoke.

“I want you”, you breathed, your hands sliding down to grip his shirt, pulling him closer again. “I want you to show me exactly how you’re going to make it up to me”.

Jensen’s smile widened, a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation lighting up his face. He leaned in, capturing your lips once more, his kisses becoming more insistent and heated. His hands roamed over your body with a renewed sense of purpose.

Jensen’s kisses trailed down your neck again, each touch light and reverent. His fingers delicately traced the edges of your silk robe, gently parting the fabric as he explored the skin beneath. His breath was warm against your collarbone, causing a shiver to run through your body with the gentle contact.

As the robe fell open, Jensen took a moment to look down, his gaze sweeping over your body. Each time he saw you like this, it was as if he was seeing you anew, and his reaction was always the same—a deep, overwhelming admiration mixed with a hint of disbelief at his own fortune. His face softened as he leaned against your collarbone, his lips pressing a tender kiss there.

You pressed his head gently against your skin, guiding him closer as your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him flush against you. The closeness heightened the electric sensation of his touch, making your heart race faster.

“I need you, Jay”, you whispered, your voice trembling slightly with the depth of your desire. The words were barely audible, but they carried the weight of your need and longing.

Jensen’s breath hitched at your plea, his body responding to the urgency in your voice. He nuzzled against your neck, his hands gripping your hips with a firm, yet tender pressure. “I’m right here”, he murmured. “I’m here”.

His lips traveled from your collarbone to the hollow of your throat, his kisses growing more fervent as he continued to explore you. His hands moved to your back, drawing you closer, as if he were trying to meld himself with you.

“I’m not going anywhere”, he promised, his words mingling with his kisses, his touch both comforting and thrilling. “You have all of me, right here”.

He tilted your head slightly to access your mouth more fully, his kiss deepening, expressing the intense desire he felt for you. Every touch, every kiss was a testament to the connection between you both—a connection that was as passionate as it was profound.

You broke the kiss, your breath coming in soft, uneven bursts as you gazed up at him. With a determined look, you reached for his shirt, your fingers deftly working to undo the buttons. Each movement was filled with a mix of urgency and tenderness, as you sought to remove the barrier between you.

Jensen’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mixture of anticipation and affection. He lifted his arms to assist as you pulled the shirt free from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. The sight of his bare chest made your heart race even more, and you could see the same admiration and desire reflected in his eyes.

He leaned in again, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss, his hands moving to cradle your face. The warmth of his skin against yours intensified the connection between you, making every touch and kiss feel even more significant.

As the kiss deepened, Jensen’s hands roamed over your body, exploring the newfound freedom of skin against skin. His touch was gentle yet assertive, a perfect balance that made every moment feel electric.

You wrapped your legs around his hips tighter, urging him closer, feeling the heat of his body pressed against yours. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, a blend of passion and tenderness that made everything else fade away.

As Jensen’s body pressed against yours, the sensation of his hard erection rubbing against your already heated and wet core sent waves of pleasure through you. His movements were deliberate and teasing, his clothed hardness sliding against your sensitive skin.

“You feel that?”, Jensen murmured, his breath hot against your neck. He shifted his hips slightly, the friction intensifying the delicious pressure. “Can you feel how much I want you?”.

You moaned in response, the sensation making it difficult to form coherent words. Jensen’s lips pressed against your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you as he continued to move against you. “Use your words”, he urged, his voice low and insistent. “Tell me what you’re feeling”.

The pressure of his body, combined with his teasing movements, made it hard to focus. “It feels… so good”, you managed to gasp out, your hands gripping his shoulders tighter as the pleasure built. “I can feel how much you want me”.

Jensen’s smile was almost predatory as he continued to kiss and suck on your neck, his hips pressing firmly against you. “That’s right”, he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I want you so badly".

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your moans as his movements became more intense. “I need you”, you finally managed to say, your voice trembling with urgency. “I need you inside me”.

Jensen’s groan vibrated against your neck, echoing the growing need within you both. His hands briefly left your body, and you instantly missed his touch. He sat back, eyes locked on yours as he quickly unbuttoned his jeans.

He returned to you in a heartbeat, his movements even more purposeful now.

Jensen hovered above you, his eyes dark. The heat from his body radiated onto you, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and anticipation. He gripped himself firmly, his hand moving slowly over his length, preparing himself with a meticulous, deliberate touch that was as much for your arousal as it was for his readiness.

“You see what you do to me?”, he murmured, his voice low and husky. His eyes never left yours, holding your gaze with an intensity that made your heart flutter. Slowly, he aligned himself with you, the tip of his hardness pressing gently against you, teasing the promise of what was to come.

His other hand moved to trace the contour of your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of the gesture juxtaposed with the raw, palpable desire in his movements. He leaned down, his lips barely touching yours, breathing you in, his control almost slipping but not quite.

“Tell me if you want more”, he said, his breath a warm whisper against your lips. The restraint in his voice contrasted sharply with the evident need in his body, visible in the way his muscles tensed, ready to claim the intimacy you both craved.

Jensen waited for your affirmation, the air charged with electricity, your shared breaths the only sound in the quiet room. As you nodded, whispering your consent, he gently pushed forward, enveloping himself in the warmth of your welcome.

The moment Jensen began to move, the sensation was intoxicating, each slow, deliberate thrust designed to heighten the sense of union between you. His eyes stayed locked on yours, watching every flicker of pleasure, every slight shift of emotion that crossed your face.

The rhythm he set was unhurried, allowing each sensory detail to be amplified—the slick sound of skin meeting skin, the soft bedding beneath you, the dim light casting shadows that played across Jensen’s focused expression.

His free hand never stilled; it roamed from your face down to your shoulders, tracing the line of your collarbone with a featherlight touch that caused shivers to ripple through your body. His fingers then danced downwards, circling around the delicate skin of your breasts, thumb brushing lightly over a nipple, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips.

“Does this feel good?”, Jensen whispered, his voice a mere breath as he adjusted his angle slightly, hitting a depth that made you moan in response. He took your moan as an affirmation, continuing his exploration, his movements growing incrementally more firm, more assured.

Jensen’s pace gradually built, each thrust becoming more insistent, though never losing the smooth, controlled grace that he had maintained from the beginning. The tension in your body began to coil tightly, pleasure pooling and spiraling with each pass of his body against yours.

Your hands reached up to his shoulders, nails digging slightly into his skin as a wave of intensity washed over you. He responded to the slight pain with a deep groan, his own control beginning to fray at the edges as he felt your body responding so viscerally to his.

“Look at me”, he commanded gently, and you fixed your eyes on his.

As the intensity of your movements grew, Jensen's breath became heavier, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He leaned closer, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his gaze never leaving your eyes. "Tell me you feel me", he murmured, each word punctuated by a deep, purposeful stroke that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

"I feel you", you gasped. "Every inch".

Jensen's smile was both triumphant and hungry. "Good", he replied, his voice thick with arousal. "Because every part of me is yours tonight". His hand slid from your breast down to where your bodies joined, his fingers expertly teasing, heightening the sensation that pulsed through you both.

"You're close, aren't you?", he coaxed, his movements becoming even more targeted, designed to push you over the edge. "Let go for me".

Your response was a moan, high and needy, and it seemed to drive him even more. Jensen’s thrusts quickened, his fingers moved with precision, and his eyes burned into yours, intent on witnessing every moment of your surrender.

"Come for me", Jensen commanded, his voice a seductive growl that vibrated through your core. "Show me how much you need me".

The room spun as you clung to his words, your climax building rapidly. With a few more calculated movements, you felt the dam break, waves of intense pleasure rolling over you in a relentless tide, leaving you breathless and quivering. Jensen followed close behind, his own release overtaking him as he buried his face against your neck, his body tensing, then shuddering with the force of his orgasm.

As you both caught your breath, Jensen’s kisses became softer, more tender, tracing a line along your jaw as he whispered, "Perfect, just like always". His words wrapped around you, just as his arms did, holding you in a gentle.

As Jensen's lips found your neck again, softly sucking at the tender skin, you felt every residual pulse from him—a quiet aftershock of the intensity you'd both shared. Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging gently, encouraging his gentle exploration.

He chuckled softly, the vibration against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. His body still joined with yours, he felt every subtle clench of your body around him, even as he softened.

"You're making it hard to stop", Jensen murmured, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "Literally", he added with a mischievous grin, feeling a reactive twitch that contradicted his earlier softening.

Your laughter mingled with his, the sound light and full of warmth. "Maybe I don't want you to stop", you whispered back, playful yet sincere, drawing him in for another deep, lingering kiss.

His hips shifting slightly in a slow, teasing motion that suggested the evening was far from over. "Then we won't", Jensen said, his words a promise as his gaze locked onto yours with renewed desire and a hint of challenge. "We'll keep going as long as you can take it".

With a mischievous twinkle in your eye, you arched an eyebrow. “Can you get hard for me again?”, you teased, a smirk playing at your lips, challenging him with a tone laced with both amusement and desire.

Jensen’s eyes darkened as his pride kicked in. He gave a low, confident laugh. “You really want to test me?”, he replied, his voice a mix of amusement and arousal. He shifted again, aligning his body more closely with yours, his expression turning determined.

With a slight thrust, he repositioned himself, his hands roaming to caress the curves of your body, rekindling the fire that had barely simmered down. “Watch me”, he whispered huskily, leaning in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that spoke volumes of his intent.

His kisses trailed down your neck, each touch lingering longer, more provocatively, as if he were painting an invisible trail with his lips. His hands were equally persuasive, stroking and teasing, building the anticipation between you.

You felt him responding to your provocations, the physical proof of his arousal growing once again. His breath caught slightly as he felt the change, a grin spreading across his face. “Looks like I’m up for the challenge”, Jensen murmured against your skin, a hint of victory in his voice.

He pressed his hips deliberately against yours, his hardness unmistakable as he made his point clear. The firm contact made you moan softly, the sound a mixture of surprise and pleasure that fueled his confidence further.

“I think that proves it”, he teased, his voice low and husky, thrilled by your reaction. He maintained the pressure, moving his hips in a slow, grinding motion that had you gasping, each movement precise and calculated to remind you of his physical capabilities.

“Does that feel good?”, Jensen asked, a rhetorical question wrapped in a growl, as he adjusted his angle to press even more insistently against you.

Your hands clung to his back, nails pressing into his skin as a way to anchor yourself against the wave of sensations he was expertly drawing out of you. “Jensen”, you managed to utter, your voice breathy and laden with desire, urging him on without needing to say much more.

Jensen’s grin grew even more knowing as he heard the breathy urgency in your voice. With deliberate intent, he reached for the headboard of the bed, gripping it tightly as his muscles tensed.

He slowly withdrew from you, each inch of separation heightening the anticipation between you. The moment he pulled back, you felt a pang of longing, an almost unbearable need for his full presence. Jensen seemed to savor the sensation of you clenching around him, your body craving the return of his depth.

Without warning, he thrust back into you, but this time it was with a single, slow, and incredibly deep movement. The depth of his penetration was thorough, stretching you to the limit and causing a gasp to escape your lips as you felt every inch of him inside you. His eyes were fixed on yours, watching the transformation of your pleasure with an intense focus.

The sensation was overwhelming, a potent mix of fullness and the slow burn of pleasure that seemed to stretch every second into an eternity. Jensen’s grip on the headboard was tight, his breathing heavy.

“Feel that?”, he murmured, his voice a low growl, both intimate and commanding.

Jensen’s slow, deep thrusts continued, each movement sending ripples of pleasure through your entire being. The depth of his penetration and the deliberate pace had you gasping and moaning breathlessly, the sensations so intense that you could barely contain them.

With every thrust, you felt him stretch you, each push hitting the very core of your pleasure. The combination of his steady rhythm and the overwhelming fullness made you clench around him, the intensity of the moment causing you to curse softly in a mix of pleasure and frustration.

“Fuck, Jensen”, you breathed out, your voice strained and desperate. Your fingers gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles whitening as you anchored yourself against the relentless waves of sensation he was drawing from you.

He kept his eyes locked on you, taking in every reaction, every shiver of your body as he continued his deliberate pace. “I want to hear you”, he urged, his voice rough with desire. “Let me know how good it feels”.

His command only intensified your moans, each sound a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he was providing. You could feel yourself getting closer to a breaking point, the pressure building with each slow, deep stroke.

Jensen seemed to sense your rising climax, his movements becoming even more controlled and calculated, ensuring that every thrust was exactly what you needed to reach the peak of your desire.

"Let me hear you", Jensen demanded, his tone insistent. "Louder".

His words were a direct challenge, stoking the fire of your arousal. With each deeper, faster thrust, you couldn't help but respond. Your moans grew louder, filling the room, a mix of pleasure and the sheer intensity of the sensations cascading through you.

Jensen's hands moved from the headboard to your hips, gripping them tightly as he adjusted the angle, aiming to deepen his thrusts even further. The new position hit just the right spot, sending sparks of pleasure zipping through your nerves. Your back arched off the bed in response, pushing against him, seeking more.

"That's it", he growled approvingly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your vocal response.

The room echoed with the sound of your combined moans and the rhythmic creaking of the bed. Jensen's control was impeccable, managing to balance on the edge of his own release while focusing entirely on your experience. His every move, every sound, and every touch was designed to bring you both to a powerful climax together.

“Come on”, Jensen urged, his voice low and gritty with desire. “I want to hear you scream for me”.

You could barely manage a coherent response, your voice a breathy, desperate mix of moans and gasps. “Jensen, I’m… so close”, you managed to plead, your body arching in response to each powerful thrust.

“Good”, he growled, his voice rough as he pushed deeper. “Let go for me. Show me how much you need me”.

The pressure in your core built rapidly, each of his movements pushing you closer to the brink. The relentless pace and the intensity of his touch were overwhelming, your climax imminent.

“Tell me how bad you want it”, Jensen demanded, his voice a harsh whisper against your ear.

“I want it so fucking bad”, you cried out, your voice cracking with the force of your release.

With a final, powerful thrust, both of you reached the peak simultaneously. Jensen’s groan was deep and primal, a sound of raw satisfaction as he felt your body convulse around him. Your own climax hit with explosive force, your cries of pleasure mingling with his as you both succumbed to the overwhelming wave of ecstasy.

After the climaxes subsided, Jensen’s breathing gradually slowed, though the intensity of the moment still lingered in the room. He pulled you closer, his touch now gentle and affectionate as he began to catch his breath. His gaze was both amused and satisfied as he looked at you, a playful smirk forming on his lips.

“Funny”, Jensen murmured after a while, his voice low and teasing, “you were complaining about me being too rough earlier”. His fingers lightly traced along your damp skin, a contrast to the roughness you’d experienced moments before.

You looked at him, still catching your breath, your face flushed but smiling. “You were”, you replied, though there was no real annoyance in your tone, just the lingering thrill of pleasure.

Jensen’s smirk widened further. “Yet here you are, coming the hardest when I fuck you exactly like that”, he teased, his voice a warm rumble that seemed to vibrate directly into your heart.

The comment made your cheeks heat up even more, a deep blush spreading across your face. In a playful attempt to hide your embarrassment, you covered your face with both hands.

Jensen’s eyes softened with a mix of adoration and amusement as he watched your cheeks flush deeply. He gently took your hands away from your face, his touch tender despite the teasing nature of his words.

“That’s exactly what I adore about you”, he murmured. “You can be so innocent and still such a dirty little mess at the same time”.

Jensen noticed the subtle changes in your body as you responded to his words—your breath catching, your body tensing slightly. The faint but unmistakable clench around him drew a deeper grin, his eyes darkening with renewed desire.

“Like that, huh?”, he teased, his voice a silky whisper that made the air between you crackle. He shifted slightly, adjusting his position to maintain the delicious pressure that elicited such an honest reaction from you. “You can’t hide how much you love this, can you?”. Jensen’s tone was both cocky and warm, a combination that made his teasing all the more intoxicating.

You could only nod, your breathing heavy, as every word he spoke seemed to resonate through you, deepening your arousal. Jensen’s hands moved from your face, tracing down your neck, over your shoulders, and along the sensitive skin of your sides, his touch light but deliberate, designed to tease and provoke.

He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath mingling with your own.

"You're something else", Jensen murmured, his lips brushing against yours with each word, barely touching yet sending shivers down your spine. His voice was a blend of wonder and desire, thick with emotion that resonated deeply within you.

His gaze held yours, intense and unyielding, as he paused to study your reaction, seeming to relish the slight quiver of your lips and the quick rise and fall of your chest. His fingers continued their exploration, now sliding down to trace the curve of your waist, coming to rest at the small of your back, pulling you closer into him, erasing any space that remained.

The closeness intensified the connection, the heat between you nearly tangible. Jensen's control was palpable, yet so was the affection and genuine admiration he held for you, making his allure almost magnetic.

"I mean it", he continued. "You captivate me like no other".

The sincerity in his voice, combined with the deliberate movements of his body, stirred a profound response within you. You felt enveloped not just by his physical presence but by the intensity of his emotions. His words, laden with affection and admiration, seemed to echo through you, heightening the intimacy of the moment.

Jensen finally closed the scant distance between your lips, sealing the words with a kiss that was both a promise and a claim—a slow, deep melding of mouths that spoke of shared desire and the unspoken acknowledgment of the bond between you.

———————————

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

Part 23

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 @fitxgrld @luvr4miya @yikeschoices @lyssalvus @soab1967 @luvr4miya @didi0666 @impala67rollingthroughtown @cheekygirl2309

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x you #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles the boys #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #his true fate

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theemissuniverse · 1 year ago

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HOW JEALOUS OR POSSESSIVE IS HE WITH FEM!READER? JOHNNY CAGE EDITION

SUMMARY : Title kinda speaks for itself

A/N: Couldn’t help but think about this random headcanon for Johnny after I saw someone write him the complete opposite of what I’m about to say lmao

WARNINGS : (MDNI)! Mentions of sex

MASTERLIST

Johnny is definitely not a jealous or possessive boyfriend. He is too full of himself to even believe that you, his girlfriend, would ever leave him for another person.

He’s very secure in his relationship. He’s also not one of those boyfriends that are like “you can’t wear that in public.” Johnny most definitely wants you to wear the hottest clothes so he can show off how hot you really are.

He loves it when people stare at you. Loves it. He knows you’re hot and he’s not gonna “punish” you just because other people find you hot.

Johnny loves this because he knows they cannot have you. Sometimes he’ll be a little petty and kiss all over you while flipping whoever is staring at you off. But he would never get pissed over it.

If a guy were to ever flirt with you, Johnny would be extremely amused. Especially if the guy did it in front of him. In fact, Johnny would simply cross his arms and take a step back and let you two “talk” knowing what you would do/say.

Most likely, Johnny will be like, “Yeah, (Y/N). Go ahead and give him your number.” You’ll listen to him but what the guy doesn’t know is that you’re actually giving Johnny’s number. Not your number. Then later when the guy texts Johnny expecting it to be you, Johnny will send him a bunch of laughing emojis and a semi explicit picture of the two of you before blocking him.

But if a girl were to flirt with you, Johnny is definitely encouraging it. (To be very clear, I cannot stand guys that do that but I’m making this as realistic to the character as I possibly can and let’s be honest, Johnny would definitely find the idea with you being with another woman hot.) You’ll roll your eyes slightly at Johnny encouraging it and inform the woman that he is actually your boyfriend which Johnny will just say, “don’t let your boyfriend stop you from finding your future wife.”

If anything, I believe you could have intimacy with other women and Johnny couldn’t care less. (Again as I bisexual woman I find men doing that stupid but like I said, making this as realistic as possible.) Johnny is also not stupid though. He would never ask you in a million years to have a threesome. He likes living.

Johnny is not “keeping tabs” on you. He’s not stalking you and doesn’t need to be breathing on your neck. All he wants from you is to tell him where you’re going and for you to check in every hour so he knows that you’re okay. Other than that, he encourages you to do whatever you please.

He does not care in the slightest of you having “guy friends.” As long as they are obviously not douchebags and try to hit on you. He will admit, he’d much prefer you having the same guy friends that he has but as long as your guy friends are being respectful of boundaries then he’s not really getting upset over it.

One thing he’d probably get mad at is if one of your guy friends out does him. For example, say Johnny buys you a gift that’s expensive but not too crazy and then your guy friend buys you something crazy out of this world expensive. Yeah, Johnny’s gonna pout like a child.

It’s mainly because gifts are his love language so he’ll definitely hate that someone got the upper hand on that.

Johnny doesn’t go through your phone to try and find something. He trusts you. He also doesn’t even believe your phone is that interesting to go through anyway.

All in all, Johnny trusts you and is not bothered by feelings of “jealousy.” Like I said, he’s too full of himself to believe you’d leave all that “greatness” for someone else that’s most likely “mid.”

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 #mk #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mortal kombat game #mk1 x reader #mk x reader

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rafesfavbimbo · 17 days ago

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Ok but this part in the fic ‘“go on. Take your time.” He then spins her around and urges her with a soft pat on her back to which y/n turns her head to look back at him.’

I’m not gonna lie, I half expected him to spank her. Like those little pats you know which ones I mean? But then I realized its probably too soon.

Stepdaughter’s definitely loving the revenge like “you left me for all of this and now I’m gonna be the one that takes it from you”.

You can’t tell me she’s not a little shit though, she’s gonna play this up even more with Rafe. “I don’t like you fighting daddy, I can change I won’t wear these clothes anymore and I won’t call you daddy if that’s what makes you fight” Obviously Rafe is not gonna allow that

God I love stepdaughter.

I’m not even going to lie I was thinking about it *bites lip* but mom would have fainted and they haven’t even crossed any lines except for very obscure affection between them…YET. I can’t wait till we get to the point where they start crossing big boundaries (especially in public) ssssshhh….

Absolutely! Stepdaughter!Reader is angry, resentful and bitter towards her mom. She’s disillusioned by the fact that her mom has been living so well off while she was struggling back home and with a deadbeat father. She wants everything that she believes is rightfully hers, starting with Rafe and eventually Rafe starts feeling her same sentiment to the fullest if it isn’t clear already.

She’s definitely cunning and scheming. She wants her mom to know that just because all of sudden she wants to be a mom she’s not going to give her that so easily if at all. Mom isn’t a good person herself. She’s only nice to her daughter because she’s her blood but she’s as snobby, classist and self-centered as they come. Stepdaughter!Reader went almost 20 years just knowing her through a minimal check (even though she’s always had the money to provide her with more) and basic postcards her mom couldn’t even bother to write in. She’s hurt and rightfully so. She wants Rafe all to herself and she’s going to have him one way or another. Rafe doesn’t really mind either, he’s proudly wrapped around her finger and even starts feeling the same rancor and way more against his wife the more he gets to know his darling girl. Even more with the way passion, besottedness and pure love begins blossoming between them.

They’re not soulmates for no reason. Cut from the same cloth and meant to be regardless of whatever comes their way. Rafe’s wife was just a stepping stone into them meeting as destined unfortunately (for her.) Even Rafe deciding to marry her was just a play by the universe. The love he has for his wife is just an extension of the love he has for her daughter (it was unknown to him till now) and now that she’s in his clutches his wife has no place anymore. Everything was meant to fall into place for them to come together, and we’ll have to see where they end up��

#stepdaughter!reader #stepfather!rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron #rafe obx #outer banks #drew starkey imagine #rafe outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey smut #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe x reader

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queenshelby · 1 year ago

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Daddy Issues (Part One)

Pairing: Dominant!Cillian Murphy & Shy!Reader (& Jamie Dornan)

Warning: Smut, BDSM, Daddy Kink, 4-Somes, 3-Somes, Sugar Baby Arrangements

Summary: Through your best friend, you meet actor Cillian Murphy and come to some kind of arrangement involving intimacy in exchange for being spoiled financially.

Written with: my beautiful wife @darkshelbyfiction

Ever since school, Emma had been your best friend and now that you were both in your early twenties, and studied law at the prestigious Oxford university, nothing really changed.

Your friendship had grown even stronger despite differences in personalities – you being introverted and reserved, she boldly exploring her newfound independence.

Emma was always full of surprises - from her unexpected move to New York City without telling anyone and then coming back six months later, to now referring to herself as Jamie Dornan's sugar baby when you were on your own while, otherwise, keeping it discreet.

When alone with you, she would often talk about having "intimate encounters" with him and sometimes even others, keeping you amused while leaving you curious about what exactly happens behind closed doors. You were often thinking about 50 Shades of Gray, spiking your curiosity, although Emma assured you that it was nothing like that.

When talking to Emma and her sugar baby experience, it felt like one day she decided to break all boundaries – whether social or moral – as if embracing freedom beyond comprehension. Despite her brazen behavior, deep down inside, she still cared deeply about your opinion which made things interesting when discussing such topics together over coffee late into the night, sitting among the humming crowd of the cozy London Cafe.

The coffee shop filled up quickly around lunchtime, making it harder for Emma to continue sharing stories confidentially.

You eventually moved outside underneath the shade of a large tree, sipping their drinks while enjoying the cool evening air. Again, your conversation turned towards the subject of sex which was something your life was lacking.

To you only, Emma often opened up about her time spent with Jamie, the man who had become what she calls her "sugar daddy".

Their relationship was nothing serious and it was that, just after his messy and rather public divorce, he sought solace in younger women whom he could provide financial stability for. In return, they agreed upon fulfilling his needs discreetly and you knew that Emma was not the only one.

As she shared more explicit details of their sessions, which she only did with you, the way she spoke became increasingly sensuous. She had fun, it seemed, and it was just last week that she had engaged in her first ever threesome with Jamie and another man.

"A threesome, with two men?" you asked incredulously, gripped with curiosity as she mentioned it for the first time that day. You only ever had sex with one man, and it was nothing short of boring to say the least.

"Yes. Jamie had a friend over, and it just happened. It wasn't really planned. But we had lots of fun and probably too much to drink as well" she giggled seductively, leaning forward slightly as if divulging a juicy secret. The sunlight reflected off her soft skin causing her silhouette to waver rhythmically against the foliage behind her.

"Uhm, okay..." you began. "So who was the guy? Was he an actor too?" You queried, genuinely intrigued.

"Yes, he is an actor too, but I really shouldn't talk about this." Her tone implied reluctance to share further details.

Curiosity peaked, you probed, "But come on, tell me! Who is he? You know I won't tell!"

She hesitated before speaking again, seemingly caught between excitement and fear. "His name is Cillian," she finally revealed, and your chin dropped.

"It's not Cillian Murphy though, is it?" you clarified, thinking of the renowned Irish actor who portrayed one of your favourite TV characters, namely Thomas Shelby.

"Jepp," she replied simply, confirming your suspicion.

"Oh my god...Cillian Murphy? Is he actually single enough to do that kind of thing? Like wow..." you couldn't help feeling shocked. Even considering you hadn't met him personally, there was undeniable respect and admiration attached to Cillian's image as he tried to stay out of the tabloids as much as possible.

"Well yeah, apparently he filed for divorce two weeks ago. Weird timing, right?" Emma said, looking almost surprised herself before you took up the courage to probe her with more questions.

"So, you actually had full on sex with them both? At the same time? In the same room?"

Your head swam with visions of those three intertwined bodies, imagining the erotic chaos taking place beneath the sheets. "Wasn't it weird?" you then asked. You had so many questions.

"Yes, we had sex at the same time and it was crazy," Emma admitted, smiling mischievously. "And no, it didn't feel weird at all. It was exciting, surprisingly so."

Her frankness startled you somewhat, used to living within societal norms, yet also fascinated by how freely Emma discussed these experiences. Perhaps it was because of your conservative background that she never judged your naïveté regarding intimacy.

"I mean, Cillian Murphy is pretty fucking hot, so I do not blame you," you said, catching yourself off guard with your sudden audacity.

Emma laughed lightheartedly. "You want details don't you?" Emma teased, already aware of your insatiable curiosity. Your cheeks flushed crimson in embarrassment, partly due to her keen observation, partly due to the explicit nature of our conversation.

"Yes, of course," you stammered nervously, clearing your throat. You could barely look at Emma straight in the eye anymore, instead fixating on the ground, afraid that your face might betray you completely.

"What do you want to know about?" Emma continued, unperturbed.

"Everything. All the dirty details," you confessed honestly, unable to suppress your voyeurism any longer. "I mean, did they both, you know, at the same time, you know..." you stammered, wondering whether they simply took turns or penetrated her at the same time.

"Put their dicks in me?" Emma laughed, seeing how shy and embarrassed you were, causing you to nod.

She proceeded, "Yes, eventually. They took turns first but then both of them wanted to be with me at once. At first, I thought it was a bit awkward, but after getting comfortable, it became thrilling and liberating."

You chin dropped, speechless. How could someone like Cillian Murphy be entangled in such debauchery?

"You look really shocked right now," observed Emma, watching your expression carefully. "Is it because I told you or because of who it was with?"

Though you were tempted to ask about Jamie, your mind remained fixated on Cillian. As far as you were concerned, he was practically handsome. To think he was capable of participating in these types of wild escapades was surreal.

"A bit of both," you responded, half questioning and half affirming, hoping she wouldn't sense your growing interest.

"You know, he is single and I could get Jamie to introduce you sometime, maybe. If you want to meet him," she added nonchalantly, as if suggesting dinner plans.

This left you stunned momentarily. You considered the possibility, envisioning yourself engaging in similar carnal acts.

"I don't think so, no... I mean, I am not like you," you protested timidly, attempting to regain composure.

"I think you are thinking too much about moral standards which are absurd concepts, developed by society to control people and maintain certain order," Emma chuckled, referring to your prudish nature.

"Cillian is single and he was clearly intrigued by what Jamie and I have going, because it is simple. There is no hassle. No feelings. Only pure physical satisfaction. That's the arrangement between us. No strings attached. And he takes care of me financially which is really helpful seeing that I am, just like you, a student with a huge student debt," Emma went on matter-of-factly.

"That sounds nice," you commented, trying to understand why Emma would agree to being part of such arrangements without seeking a deeper connection. "But, don't you find it degrading sometimes?"

Emma gave you a sidelong glance, understanding perfectly well where your concerns stemmed from. "No, because there is absolutely nothing wrong with having sex for personal gain, especially when consent is given mutually. Despite, I actually really enjoy the sex. It's different than anything else, more intense and raw - and I feel closer to myself afterwards. There's just something powerful about it, you know? Sometimes I wonder how long this will go on, but then I remember that as long as everyone gets what they need, nobody gets hurt. This keeps everything simple and fair game, which suits me fine.”

You listened quietly, struggling to process all the information. It was difficult to imagine Emma – sweet, innocent Emma – as someone who enjoyed these kinds of arrangements. Yet somehow, hearing her describe it made it sound logical, even reasonable.

After all, money was tight for students. If consensual adults found pleasure in such arrangements, why should anyone judge them? You understood why Jamie paid for expenses in return for sexual favors – he wanted to compensate Emma for services rendered, plain and simple. Still, you marveled at how easily she glossed over potential consequences associated with such liaisons.

She always had nice, expensive things nowadays, clothes and shoes alike and she spent most nights with him, having fun and enjoying her life.

Their lifestyle seemed enviably easy and carefree compared to yours, stuck with heavy books and a mountain of debts piled high. Maybe it was worth exploring, you mused fleetingly. Still, you knew deep down inside that this wasn't the path you wanted to take. The idea felt morally corrupt, and it terrified you.

Back in reality, however, the fact still remained that you lacked the confidence needed to approach someone like Cillian Murphy let alone sleep with him. You were too scared of rejection and failure.

It was hard to believe that someone like Cillian Murphy could ever give you the attention you desired. Besides, it wasn’t as if you would suddenly become desirable just because you slept with him. Deep down, you worried that you weren't good enough. Your insecurities consumed you. However, the more you talked to Emma, the more curious you grew. How would it feel to be with such a person? What would happen during the act itself? Would they dominate you entirely? Or perhaps be gentle? So many questions filled your mind as you tried to grasp onto reality.

"Maybe dinner would be alright. I mean, nothing bad can come from meeting new people, right?" You countered cautiously, your heart racing slightly. Meeting someone like Cillian Murphy was indeed exciting, yet nerve-wracking simultaneously.

"Right. I will organise it then!" Emma said excitedly and, to you, agreeing to meet Cillian Murphy felt monumental, almost surreal.

You couldn't help feeling excited, hopeful that he would notice you among others and throughout the night, you couldn't stop reflecting upon the encounter with Emma. Her stories sparked countless fantasies that tormented your imagination, leaving you eager to experience pleasures beyond conventional boundaries. Even though it meant facing risks and challenges outside your comfort zone, the prospect of indulging in passionate encounters captivated you.

After all, hadn't dreaming been harmless until it turned into reality? Confronting your fears allowed you to grow stronger. As you sipped on another cup of coffee, lost in thought, Emma noticed your contemplation.

"So, are you really really sure?" Emma asked, seeing how nervous you were already.

"Yes. It's just dinner, right?" you said and Emma chuckled and agreed.

"Yes, but these things can lead to more. There is no pressure though," Emma reassured you as a mischievous grin spread across her lips.

"Exactly," you nodded vigorously, although doubts crept into your head when you looked up his soon to be ex-wife and the women he had dated before, all of whom were extremely attractive.

How could anyone possibly compete against those women? Why would he bother with somebody like me? These negative thoughts flooded your brain but nevertheless, you decided to push through these anxieties. After all, life was full of surprises and opportunities. Who knows, you may end up liking each other!

"Alright, we're doing this, then. Let's see where it leads," you confirmed firmly, looking determined despite your lingering insecurities.

Emma grinned broadly, pleased with your decision as she picked up the phone and called Jamie.

To be continued....

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