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sourcherryandsprinkles · 5 months ago

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Aemond x brothel reader 👀

So what if instead of Aemond visiting the older woman in yesterday’s episode - he goes to the brothel and immediately regrets it and is about to leave until he sees reader and is mesmerized by her beauty. They have their little moment and she gives him comfort. Definitely feel free to add more or change anything! This is just a thought that I’d like to see created. Thank you!

Request: Aemond and a brothel girl (maybe a dancer idk) like the scene in the episode. Except they are more intimate and not weird age gap like the madam. It gave me the ick… He truly feels for her.

Warnings: mention of (past) character death, mommy issues,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The mysterious customer under a cloak all piqued your curiosity. You never had the chance of properly seeing him, always immediately escorted to a private bed. Some girls said he was disfigured, and that it was the reason he covered himself with a cloak. Some said it was Aegon Targaryen, but you knew the newly crowned King favored Flea Bottom’s whores.

As you danced, your eyes would try to see through the veils he hid behind. To get a glimpse of him. But you never saw anything other than his bare feet. All you knew was that he was with Madam Sylvi and that he requested hot milk.

One late evening, you saw him leaving the veils. His cloak was on, but he saw you. He saw you dancing and moving your naked body to the rhythm of the music, entertaining the customers.

The next time he came by, he asked for you.

Madam Sylvi was not pleased, but he was the paying customer.

You reminded him of his mother — physically —, but more caring and nurturing. He found your voice soothing and loved to rub himself against the fullness of your breasts, making your nipples harden to the stimulation, until he came to rest his cheek on top of it, humming in satisfaction. His mother let him do this as a child, when she was still comforting him, and he missed it.

Every night, he would curl against you, or in your lap, and stay here for hours as you gently caressed his pale skin. Unlike the other customers, Aemond was not there for sexual satisfaction. He just wanted comfort.

‘’Daemon sent them to kill me,’’ he said, his naked body shielded by the veils circling the large bed. ‘’It was my head they wanted, not my innocent little nephew’s.’’

Your heart was heavy as the prince mentioned the murder of Jaehaerys — a child. The barbarous act had everyone in tears.

You rubbed his arm gently, the aroma of calming lavender wrapping around you. ‘’But you were with me.’’

‘’I feel sorry for my brother and sweet sister. She is traumatized.’’ Guilt filled his stomach as he remembered the suffering and painful grief in Helaena’s eyes. ‘’I should be grateful they did not find me, but a part of me wishes they had. Unlike my little nephew, I would have been able to defend myself.’’

‘’We cannot change the past, my prince.’’

‘’I know,’’ Aemond whispered, his cold, princely facade completely down in your company. He sighed deeply as your gentle caresses soothed his weary soul. His body relaxed as he buried his face into your covered chest, seeking solace in your warmth and tenderness. ‘’There’s a lot I would change about the past if I could. I…I do regret that business with Luke. I lost my temper that day, and I am sorry for it.’’

You stroked his hair gently, the soft, silvery locks running through your fingers. You could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away as he rested against you.

Aemond's eye closed at your touch, and a small sigh escaped his lips. ‘’They used to tease me, you know? Because I was different. One time, in the dragonpit, they…they said they found me a dragon. It was a pig. And my brother was part of the prank.’’

’'That was cruel of them,'’ you said softly, leaning to kiss his temple. He leaned into your touch as you wrapped your arms around him in a comforting embrace. ‘’They were cruel to you, my prince. You didn't deserve their taunts and mockery.'’

You felt his hand reaching up and palming your breasts through your clothing. Getting the hint of what he wanted, you untied the front of your dress and freed your breasts. Immediately, Aemond’s mouth started to press kisses over them before. His hot tongue swiped over your nipple. You let him do what he desired, knowing this was his way of finding comfort. The warmth of his hand and the wetness of his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, but you focused on his needs.

As Aemond continued his sweet assault on your breasts, you noticed his cock was getting hard against his thigh, but didn’t mention it. Madam Sylvi never touched him there...or kissed him. Only you — when he asked for it.

The music outside the curtains changed, and he shifted, letting go of your breasts to curl up with his head on your lap instead. You continued to rub his shoulder down to his back, then along his thigh and leg.

‘’When I claimed Vhagar, I felt powerful.’’

His pride and confidence had swelled to an almost unmanageable extent when he returned to Driftmark. He was excited to tell Aegon, and his mother about Vhagar. But his cousins and nephews found him first. They got into a fight over the dragon…and Lucerys Velaryon took out his eyes.

As if you read his thoughts, your finger brushed the scar going through his eyebrow. You couldn’t imagine the pain he went through.

‘’Was it why you went after Luke that day? Because you wanted him to be afraid of you and your superior dragon?’’

Aemond grew still at the mention of Lucerys, the memory of that fateful day on Storm’s End, the catalyst of the brewing war, still fresh in his mind.

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded slowly. ‘’Yes... In a way, I suppose so.’’

You hummed, brushing your fingertips along his cheekbone softly.

Aemond wished he could take you to the Keep. To his chambers. It would be nice to not have to hide under a cloak at night and risk getting seen by anyone who shouldn’t. He wished you would be there, in his bed, when he would return from small council meetings, training or even just supper, to take care of him and hold him.

But that was impossible. His mother would never allow it.

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard@domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale@mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit

All and more taglist: @kenqki@hawkegfs@gillybear17@black-rose-29@fudge13@cece05@laylasbunbunny@gemofthenight@beautyb1ade@mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog@queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouknani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd #house of the dragon imagine

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cinnamorollcrybaby · 1 month ago

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BEGGING FOR A SUGURU VERSION OF THE SATORU HANDS ONE AND MAYBE PT 2 OF THE SATORU ONE ??

Omg now I'm thinking of satosugu

ANYWAYS ILY CINNA, THANKS FOR BEING THE BEST!

Their Plaything

Tags: SatoSugu x Reader, nsfw, mdni, hand kink, size kink, finger sucking, this might be controversial lol

An: I LOVE YOU NEPOBABYYYY THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING <3

Living with the two strongest sorcerers in the world should be chaotic, right?

Wrong.

Well, actually… maybe you’re right.

But if there’s one thing about Satoru and Suguru, they try to protect you from their lifestyle at all costs. If they come home beaten and bloodied from a mission, they’ll still be laughing and reassuring you that their wounds don’t hurt that bad.

They never ever talk about the horrors they face. It’s none of your concern. Even if it’s patronizing to think the way they do, they don’t want you to deal with the emotional turmoil and stress that they have to. So, they make their jobs look easy.

Oh yeah, and that king of curses guy?? They’d definitely beat him. It’s really no sweat.

Even though they try to protect you from the horrors of jujutsu sorcery, they absolutely love when you worry about them. You’re the only person in the world that still treats them like they aren’t invincible, and they find it endearing.

Besides, after a long mission, all they really need is you.

Suguru loves to dote on your face. His oversized palm would cup your cheek, adoring how you nuzzle into his touch like a cat. His hand is bigger than your face, and it’s calloused too. His fingers are thick.. to the point where it almost hurts when he stretches you out, but it’s the best type of pain. His veins are bigger than Satoru’s. Even though Satoru is technically taller, Suguru is just stockier built.

He counts his blessings while thinking about how soft your skin feels. All this work he does… all the terribly corrupted things he’s seen is worth it to come back home to you.

His favorite is when you sit on his lap facing away from him and allow for him to play with your hair. You fit so nicely in his lap. His body can nearly encompass yours. He’ll rake his fingers through your hair for hours before his hands settle on your hips. His thumbs find the dimples in your back, and he just holds you to him.

Satoru is a bit different in his approach. He’ll hold his palm out for you to rest your chin on, and when you flutter those pretty eyes to look up at him, he can’t help but to indulge you in a kiss.

He’ll get on his knees in front of you and Suguru, and his hands trail down your body while you’re sat in Suguru’s lap. He’ll grope your thighs and massage your calfs while pressing kisses to whatever body part you’ll allow him to.

Satoru and Suguru are mischievous. They’ll do subtle things to turn you on — on purpose, and when you get all needy, they’ll tease you about being an insatiable pervert. When in reality, they’re the ones who were horny in the first place. Can you blame them? Being without their plaything for days while they’re on missions is like cruel and unusual punishment.

It starts off usually with Suguru. While playing with your hair, he’ll subtly give you a small tug. “Oh, I’m sorry, darling. Did I pull? I didn’t mean to.” He’ll whisper softly into your ear, knowing you get all squirmy when his breath fans across your skin.

It works every time without fail. You go to wiggle away from him, but his large hands hold your hips in place. “Ah, ah, princess, don’t run from me. I haven’t seen you in a couple of days. Let me have this.”

Before you know it, his hands are back in your hair, subtly tugging on it. He subtly smirks to himself as he hears your breath becoming more pressured.

Satoru knows all of Suguru’s tricks by now, and he immediately follows suit. He reaches up to cup your cheek. At first, it’s completely innocent. His thumb will trace soft lines into your skin while he watches as your face becomes more and more flushed.

“Don’t get too worked up now, sweets.” Satoru teases before he places his pointer and middle finger up to your lips. “We just missed you.” He says with a grin as you absentmindedly open your mouth and accept his fingers in.

Your mouth is so damn warm and wet. He can immediately start to feel his pants getting tight. He’ll subtly grunt as he watches you suckle and bite on his fingers. Nothing else in the world matters right now. All the hard work, blood, sweat, tears is for purely this… so he can come home and watch you live without a care in the world.

Suguru’s hands will subtly start to guide your hips. It’s so minuscule that you don’t even realize that you’re rocking back and forth right against his cock. Soon enough, you’re completely moving back and forth on your own, grinding against him until you’re soaked through your panties.

When you start to whimper and whine around his fingers, Satoru will pull them from your mouth. “What is it, sweets? Don’t tell me you’re feeling needy.” He taunts as he stands up from his knees, forcing you to look up at him instead of his cock that was tented in his pants.

“Yeah darling, we just got home… We just wanted to love on you.” Suguru chimes in before pulling your hair a bit more.

“You just see us as sex objects, don’t you? Just two cocks to fulfill those sick thoughts in your head.” Satoru immediately speaks up, not giving you a chance to defend yourself.

They’re so damn unrelenting. When both of them are together, you never have a chance for rest. It’s like they feed off each other’s energy and dispel it onto you.

“N-no, I… you two started it” You whine, trying to defend your case against them.

“Oh? You’re gonna deny it while grinding yourself against my cock? No one made you do that, darling.” Suguru whispers into your ear, making you shiver again.

“And what about sucking on my fingers? No one made you do that either.” Satoru pats the top of your head with his hand. “You’re so needy. I bet if I placed my dick right against your lips, you’d accept that too without question.”

Your hips immediately halt, and both of the men just laugh at you. “No, no, don’t stop now. You might as well get yourself off.” Suguru’s hands wrap back around your hips, forcing you to move back and forth against him again.

Satoru fumbles with his belt, and he tests his theory from earlier. Once his cock is out, he presses his tip right against your lips, and sure enough, your mouth opens right up for him.

“Good girl.” Satoru praises in a breathy groan while rubbing your hair.

“Such a good girl.” Suguru echos Satoru’s praise, whispering right into your ear as you struggle to take Satoru’s cock.

So, things aren’t too bad while living with the two strongest sorcerers. As long as you like being toyed with by both of them at once.

#jjk #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #fanfic #drabble #jjk suggestive #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo drabbles #satoru x reader #satoru smut #jjk smut #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #satosugu #suguru geto smut #jjk x reader #geto drabble

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m00nchildthings · 1 year ago

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ALUCARD X PREGNANT!READER

This story was based off of this one right here: https://www.tumblr.com/m00nchildthings/703854020457021440/mating-press-and-breeding-kink-with-alucard

if anything this can be read as a sequel where he managed to get you knocked up cw for pregnant reader, oral sex one sparing use of the reader being called mama, and alucard being a hovering creep towards you for carrying his child also slight pregnancy kink if you squint not even read over once bone apple teeth🧑‍🍳😙🤌

p.s. @yazzzmints @ch3rryistheg you asked and i delivered

“You’re hovering Adrian”.

“I do not hover,”

You sighed, closing the large ornate tome you had been reading and setting it on the small wooden table beside your chair. He was hovering and whether he was oblivious to it or simply choosing to be obtuse, he was doing it a hell of a lot more recently. You knew why though, you thought as you brought your hand over your swollen stomach. Seven months into your pregnancy and through every step Alucard had treated you and your unborn child like fine china perpetually teetering over a precocious edge.

“You are aware we won’t turn to ash the moment we leave your vision,” you said cheekily staring up at your dhampir lover. His eyes narrowed before he swept past you, moving to sit in the armchair beside your own. He sat there, for a moment beautiful like marble with his eyes closed, before turning to face you.

“I am very well aware of that,” he said, placing his chin in his hand as he peered at you. You hummed, turning away from him, instead choosing to focus on the crackling fireplace in front of you, pretending the warm embers floating around the wood were far more interesting than the golden haired man sitting next to you.

“Then I hope that you are also aware,” you began pausing to take a sip of the tea still hot on your side table “that fathers who hover around the pregnant wives are bound to produce children that do not enjoy their company,”

“That isn’t true,” you could see his brows furrow from your peripheral view, hiding your chuckle behind another sip of tea, you continued.

“It very well might be an old wives tale, but I have heard of children coming out fussy towards their fathers fresh out of the womb-,” you were cut off with a loud swoosh as Alucard gracefully stepped towards you settling down at his knees, hands placed on your stomach.

“You won’t dislike me right?” he directed at your stomach, brow even more wrinkled with worry “Surely they understand I am just so, eager, to meet them right darling?,”

He stared up at you now, golden eyes tense with worry, your lip wobbled as you held back your smile. Here before you on his knees was Alucard Tepes; one of the slayers of Dracula, the feared prince of the night that cut down his enemies like knives through butter- reduced to a simpering thing at the fear your child might come straight from you hating him. You relented not having the heart to tease him any longer you cradled his jaw in your hand.

“I was just teasing my love, surely our child will love you just as much as I,” immediately he relaxed, melting into the palm of your hand. His golden eyes cut up at you a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“You are cruel to do such a thing to your doting lover,” his alabaster hand gripped your wrist as he turned to lay a kiss in the fleshy part of your palm. “I treat you so sweetly and you insist on giving me heart palpitations.

“Consider it payback for what your hellspawn is doing to my body, I can barely make it from here to the door without my swollen ankles and aching spine objecting,” you said, bringing your hand away from him to stretch the intense cracking of your back emphasizing your point.

Alucard stood, staring down at you, he adored your changing body evidence of the growth of his child in you. You’d always been beautiful in his eyes, but something about knowing the swell of your stomach was from your baby growing inside of you, surely you were a goddess gifting him with the gifts of gifts. Bending down he looped his arms around your waist ignoring your grumbles of objection when he picked you up hoisting you into his arms until your knees hung over his elbows.

“Then allow me to be your legs,” you huffed rolling your eyes as Alucard toted you out of your rather comfortable reading room, you knew where he was taking you of course. The looming large ornate doors of your bedroom came into view as Alucard steadily carried you to them.

“Our bedroom,” you said flatly “I wonder what reason you could have for bringing me here Adrian,”

“I have no idea what you are implying deer,” he said, turning to press his back to the door, opening it with your combined weights. Barely holding back his impish grin (a look a great number of others refused to believe existed when you said he did so on the regular) he rushed you to your bed gently placing you on the downy mattress.

“Your feet must be killing you,” he said, gracefully moving to sit beside you and patting his lap. Begrudgingly you laid back against the comforter swinging your aching feet to his lap. He gently massaged your foot pressing his fingers into the soles of your feet soothing the pain that afflicted you. His talented hands seemed to pull all the aches from them knowing how to just work your body from months of repeated practice. A particularly forceful push into your left heel and you couldn’t hold back the moan that bubbled from your throat. Alucard smiled at you gently placing your feet on the bed beside him.

“See? So sweetly,” he said, placing his now free hand on your stomach.

“My body still aches,” you grumbled, still feeling the tension in your back

“I can help with that,”

“Your version of help is what got me into this predicament,” chuckling Alucard slowly spread your legs apart hiking your dress to just under your belly. There laid out before him nestled in a thatch of curls your cunt shined for him, already glistening with arousal. His slender fingers traced up the warm slit of your puffy lips noticing the audible hitch in your breaths

“If you don’t like my version of help then where are your undergarments,” he questioned, knuckles grazing up and down your quivering pussy

“They no longer -mmph- fit,” you moa, turning around to bury your head into the pillow.

“How lucky for me,” he murmured, just barely above a whisper as he sank down till his face was level with your heat “that my favorite snack is but a silk slip away from tongue,”

With one scathing breath his mouth was on you, pink lips pressing toward your own. His tongue wickedly lapped at you running wet circles around your throbbing clit before slipping its way into your clenching cunt. He couldn’t help the vibrating moans, near purrs that reverberated into you, as your juices flooded his taste buds. He couldn't help the way he ate at you ravaging your quim with every fiery stroke through your quivering lips. Your hands tugged at his golden locks pulling him closer and closer to your weeping cunt. How foolish, he thought as he drank up all you had to offer, why pull him close when you both know the last thought on his mind was pulling away?

Your orgasm crested, creeping up on you with each lascivious lick that toyed with your throbbing clit. It was with one particularly harsh suck that had you falling apart, melting apart like butter on warm toast your cunt creamed over your lover's tongue. Undeterred Alucard continued to viciously feast on your juices, moaning as they glossed his face. Clawed hands though gentle, held your hips in place as they began to buck so he could wrap his lips around your clit sucking on the shiny pearl undisturbed.

“A-Adrian please, s’too much I need-,” interrupting you Alucard sighed loudly, releasing your clit with an audible pop.

“You never let me have my fill,” he complained peering up at you over your swollen belly “but I know what you need,”

Rising Alucard reached for his trousers tugging the strings till his cock, heavy with a bead of precum pooling at the tip, fell free. Smiling and flashing those fangs of his wide he pulled your legs to wrap around his waist. Grabbing at his cock he lined the drooling pink head with your equally wet cunt, rubbing it between your lips and nudging at your clit. Gently he pushed inside of you, hissing as your heat slowly enveloped him till the hilt. The two of you rested there for a moment panting as your limbs tangled about each other. You whined under him, arms reaching towards him, hands making grabby motions for him. Alucard reached underneath you pulling you towards him. You both sat there, connected at your most intimate of places, your sweaty forehead resting on his cool one.

“Adrian,”

“Yes my love?”

“Fuck me.”

“Yes my love”

With a low chuffing noise, Alucard thrust up into you once, twice, three times, every one seeming to be deeper than the last. Your mouth hung agape as your lover continuously fucked up into you carving the shape of him deep into your cunt. Moans barely escaped you as every thrust seemed to steal your breath, your eyes stared into the golden ones of your lover unable to look away. Before you could process Alucard's hand gripped your ass holding you towards him as he stood on the bed, steadying his feet in the cushion and using his grip to lift you fast up and down his cock.

“Do you feel me sweet, deep, in here,” he rasped as he bounced you on his cock balls slapping on your ass. His hot breath fanned your face as he used your own weight to fuck you, one particular hard thrust had your eyes rolling back into your skull, and with a rush words escaped you.

“Fuck Adein yes! Fuck me please, I- oh god don’t stop!” you screamed nails clawing into the rolling muscles of his back.

“That’s it mama,” he hissed somehow managing to grip you closer, shifting to the balls of his feet he began to roll his hips up into you to match every bounce of your ass against his thighs “Take it, cum for me, let me feel your silk grip me,”

You don’t know whether it was his words that got you there so quickly or the orgasm he gave you prior, but with a barely audible cry you came walls gripping him tightly as you gushed around him. Alucard grit his teeth at the grip your cunt had him in, thrusting a few times before spilling inside you with a strangled cry. Alucard fell to his knees holding you close as you both bounced on the mattress. He pulled you off him holding back chuckles when you grumbled from the over sensitivity. Gently he laid you down before getting off the bed and leaving towards your bedroom bath chamber. He returned with a warm bowl of water and two warm cotton cloths.

Sitting beside you Alucard dipped the washcloth into the water wringing it before bringing it to your heaving body. Carefully he cleaned you off, wiping the spunk he left at your center. You groaned, pushing at his hands, still feeling far too sensitive. With a chuckle he dropped the now sullied rag once you were clean of him, reaching to prepare the second one he had brought and pressed the soothing cotton to your sweaty brow. Your eyes closed as you let your dhampir lover continue with his aftercare.

“Am I forgiven yet, for breeding you with my -what did you call our child- hellspawn?” he asked golden eyes trained onto your face. With a sigh you looked up at him already having forgotten the remark you had made earlier. A sly smirk tugged at your tired face.

“For the time being leonito,”

#ughhh i am so rusty writing smut #but alucards return had me feeling sentimental #alucard tepes x reader #alucard x reader #alucard smut #alucard tepes #adrian tepes x reader #adrian x reader #adrian tepes #castlevania smut

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moviestarmartini · 5 months ago

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mirrors. — jude bellingham x reader

summary: your boyfriend is adamant in showing you why you have no reason to be insecure.

wc: 1.8k

warnings: midsize!reader, insecure!reader, nsfw (18+) , unprotected sex (don't ♡) , mirror sex, lots and lots of compliments, soft dom!jude, fingering, creampie, happy ending.

A/N: this is a quick read since that one scene in bridgerton got a bit of muse back from me!! thank you to all the girlies (gn) who dropped by la sobremesa to beg for jude lmao. i have a few other requests i may or may not honor hehe but enjoy!!

The door to the hotel room slammed shut, and you felt as though it might have rattled the whole building. You couldn’t hear past your panting and deafening heartbeat, not knowing what to do but pace around.

You’ve come to learn in that gala that, even though it wasn’t likely, people on the internet were kinder with their cruel words. Nothing could compare to the looks of disdain you got as you hung around your boyfriend. It didn’t make sense, you’ve been dating Jude for almost two years, and nothing compared to those models and influencer types staring you down.

You muttered something to him earlier about having a tummy ache, leaving the event and heading up to the shared hotel room in the same venue. You didn’t even catch the beep of a card being swiped on the door, your stupor too high to notice your boyfriend approaching you concerned.

“Love…” His voice started softly, effectively startling you half to death. But his brows furrowed softly as he noticed your panic, taking your hands in his. “What’s wrong? Tell me— no, wait, let’s breathe.” He squeezed your hands and guided your breathing with large intakes and exhales until your bottom lip effectively stopped quivering.

“Do I embarrass you?” You couldn’t help but ask, a baffled expression growing in his face before the realization settled in.

“Oh, honey,” He cooed in a sigh, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Those women are just envious. If you didn’t mind them, you would know I spent all night looking at you and only at you.”

“But—“ You tried arguing, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“No, none of that.” Over time in both your friendship and subsequent relationship, Jude had given you confidence that had pushed you forward in every aspect of your life. He looked around the room trying to find a device to get his point across, his face softening landing his eyes on the full body mirror next to the balcony.

“C’mere.” Jude pulled you towards the item, his hand gently on yours. His hand opened to guide you to stand in front of it, staring at your reflection. He stood behind you, his hand on your waist.

“Look at you…” His voice was soft but still sultry. “You’re perfect. The way your curves hug that dress perfectly anyone would think it was made for you and nobody else.” A smile twitched in your mouth, but the whispering flashed by from one ear to another, snapping you out of the temporary happiness.

“It’s just us here, okay?” He could read you like an open book, his other hand gently cupping your jaw to maintain your look towards your reflection. “It’s also how your skin is so soft it shines under the light.” The hand on your waist ran up your exposed arm, forming a trail of goosebumps on the skin.

“And all those other parts of you I worship constantly.” He leaned in to place his chin on your shoulder, looking back at the two of you.

“How are you so sure?” Your chest heaved but for a completely different reason once you asked sheepishly, a smile forming in response before he put the words out there.

“Because you’re the love of my life,” He replied simply. “Besides, we’ve been together for so long, you’re my reflection. And I’m yours.” He kissed your cheek delicately before parting ways with your body.

But everything was long forgotten already by you, turning around to pull him into a kiss. His hands found the way to your waist, pulling you close briefly before he broke the kiss.

“I love you more than anything in this universe.” He brushed his nose against yours before twirling you around to face the mirror again. “And you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

While a hand pinched the bottom of the zipper, the other pulled it down painfully slowly, never breaking eye contact through the mirror. The gown soon pooled at your feet, and it was as if he took a moment to admire the work of art in front of him; you were wearing just heels and panties, your nipples hardened from the sudden cold of the room.

He didn’t even need to say anything, his eyes did the talking.

Jude leaned closer to kiss your neck, slowly, never breaking eye contact. He held you closer to his body with a hand resting on the soft pouch under your belly button. You thought you could melt into a puddle right then there, chest heaving as you noticed his hand lower even further and into the tiny piece of underwear— worn so it wouldn’t show with the dress.

“This pretty pussy is also so perfect.” He whispered in your ear, his slender fingers pressing against your clit. “I want to make love to you, with one condition.”

“Yes?” Your voice quivered, letting out a loud exhale at the way his lips curled into a snarky smile.

“It has to be facing this mirror.”

You didn’t even notice when you nodded, or when you sauntered over to the bed and laid on it per his request. It all felt like an out of body experience until he tugged off the tie, starting to strip in front of you.

You couldn’t help but smirk as he unbuttoned the expensive white shirt, the sound of his belt coming undone made your mouth water. He removed his shoes before taking off the pair of slacks, taking slow steps towards you before leaning down to kiss a trail up your stomach, chest, throat and up to your lips.

You moaned into the kiss as he laid on top of you, pinning your hands over your head. “Perfect,” He breathed out between kisses, “And all mine.”

His hand sneaked under your panties again, teasing your wet entrance with two slender fingers before pushing one first past your entrance. “F-fuck— Baby,” You squirmed, your back aching against his bare chest.

“Feels good, right?” He asked softly, pumping his finger in and out, his boner pressing against your upper thigh but he seemed too focused on working his magic.

You nodded between moans as he slipped another finger past. You’ve done this a thousand times already, but why did this time feel so… different? Your senses were clouding with each expert twist and tiny thrust he was giving you, the underwear practically ruined with your slick.

But he suddenly stopped, leaving you distraught as he removed the tiny item of clothing, taking off his underwear to match. No matter your weight, it was surprising how easily he could manhandle you, switching so you laid on top of him.

“You know what to do, love.” He cupped your face, and you nodded, taking his leaking cock in your hand to line it against your entrance.

You watched as he closed his eyes, almost squeezing them shut at your light teasing. You smiled before pushing him in completely, a groan escaping both of your lips once it was fully inside.

You rocked your hips, noticing how he had opened his eyes. Moans left your lips as his arm reached up, taking a hold of your jawline to tilt your face up. Once again, you met your eyes in the mirror, your stomach sucking in.

“Look at you,” He cooed. “You’re perfect when you ride me.”

You gave yourself a good look and couldn’t help but agree. The way your tits bounced with every rock of your hips was enticing, and now you felt like an idiot for even listening to the gossip downstairs.

After all, you were the one you had the man of their dreams under you, groaning with every bounce of your body on his cock.

“What’s that look on your face?” He noted breathlessly, and you couldn’t help but smile and shake your head. Yet again, without any words, he understood you perfectly. “There she is.” He winked up at you, holding you down to take his entire length. You groaned, noticing him shifting his weight to switch your bodies.

Now you laid under him, and you couldn’t help but notice once again how huge he was. His biceps morphed together could easily be bigger than your head.

You reached out to caress his face, “I love you so much. I’m so lucky to have you.” You admitted breathlessly as he started thrusting again, much faster than the speed your hips had established a mere second ago.

“No, I’m lucky to have you.” Jude insisted, kissing your hand. “My perfect girl…”

The build up to your orgasm lasted a few seconds. You were so concentrated on everything else to notice how close you were, only doing so when your stomach squeezed in. “Jude…” You warned, lips parted.

“Do it baby, cum on my cock.” He approved with a nod, quickly throwing one of your legs over his shoulder in order to gain an angle to touch your sensitive clit.

The moans got caught in your throat, and you caught your calf spasming from the pleasure. The brain fog from the pleasure was too much, enough for you to not notice Jude pulling out and easily manhandle you into laying in your stomach. He pulled your hips slightly up to gain the perfect angle, following his hand wrapping your hair in a fist and pulling you up to meet your eyes in the mirror once again.

“Look at you,” He cooed once again, and frankly, you looked overwhelmed in the pleasure he was giving you with each deep thrust, the sound of skin coming into contact filling the room along with the creaking of the bed and the sounds you both produced.

From the stuttering of his hips you could hint he was close too, but it wasn’t until he posed the question that you actually realized it. “Where do you want it, hm? Want me to cum all over your ass?” He groped the skin before giving sharp spanks, the surprise making you gasp.

“No!” You shook your head, “Cum inside, baby. Please.” You knew very well it was a trick question, and the mumbled praises he shot were the confirmation as he leaned in to kiss the back of your shoulder.

Similar to the previous one, your orgasm completely caught you off guard as it washed over you suddenly, the squeezing of your walls being the catalyst for your boyfriend’s own orgasm which he honored both of your wishes by filling you up with the thick white ropes of sticky liquid.

It took you both a second to ride off the highs, Jude rolling over to lay at your side.

“We should’ve fucked in the bathroom downstairs so everyone heard us.” You commented mindlessly, laying on your back and staring up at the ceiling.

At the sound of your boyfriend’s cackles, you couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, you really loved him. And he really loved you, too.

#speaking my truth as a low midsize girlie #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼✽ — writing !

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laurfilijames · 3 months ago

Text

Breathe

Part 9

Pairing: Will Miller x female reader

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Unprotected intercourse. Alcohol consumption. Swearing.

Summary: Will's feelings come to light in the aftermath of your run-in with Cam, and after more rifts between the two Miller brothers, your relationship progresses to the next step.

A/N: I'm not sure how many chapters will be left as this series starts to come to a close, but I hope you enjoy this next one and continue to be patient with me while updates take longer. Below is the link to the song featured in this chapter ⬇️

Series Masterlist

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“Are you sure you’re not upset?”

“I’m sure.”

Will heard you sigh, and stood from where he knelt in front of the open fridge, meeting eyes with you as you held the door for him and passed him groceries to put away.

Your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth, the same worried expression you’d had on your face the whole way back to his place still dressing your features.

He wouldn’t deny he felt something.

Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Not jealousy or even that he felt threatened by Cam, but something in him burned and had made him turn quiet in the truck, his thoughts taking him away which in turn made you anxious.

Each time he looked at you those undetermined feelings grew, brewing inside him with a demand to be acted on, making Will feel on-edge and short, his mind constantly mulling over the interaction and imagining the one that had happened at the bar that he didn’t witness, and the more he thought, the less he said.

You had turned away after handing him the last of the food needing to go in the fridge, working on unpacking a bag into the cupboards, and without thinking, Will walked over to you and grabbed the box of cereal out of your hand and placed it on the counter.

His look was stern while yours was confused, neither of you speaking as you shared a loaded glance that might have finally revealed everything he was feeling, his hand grabbing the hair at the back of your neck and tugging, angling your head to tilt back before he crashed his lips against your open mouth, kissing you hard.

Your hands tore at his shirt, untucking it from the waist of his jeans and then moving to the buckle on his belt, your kisses desperate and wanting.

Before you had a chance to get any further, Will roughly turned you around, his large form hovering over you from behind, his breath hot on your ear.

His hand slid between your legs, stroking you through your jeans from the back, the pressure he was applying making the material rub on your aching cunt in a wonderfully cruel way.

“Bedroom. Now.”

The way he growled those two words made you moan with need, your entire body alight and tingling with arousal, feeling his large hand splay out on the small of your back just as it had earlier when you had run into Cam.

You did as you were told, marching to his room despite your legs feeling numb from the nervous excitement pulsing through you, knowing if you stopped or hesitated, Will would simply pick you up and get you there himself.

You stepped inside and spun around, holding your breath as you watched him slam the door behind him, his eyes darkened and heavy with a level of desire that made your heart thunder in your chest and your cunt pulse with need.

He ripped his shirt over his head and then stepped toward you, gripping your chin with enough force but still somehow gently, your eyes fluttering closed as a heaviness that you knew was from lust overtook them.

You moaned softly when you felt his thumb graze over your bottom lip, waiting, hoping, wanting him to unleash whatever it was he was experiencing on you.

“Will…”

His name came off your lips so sweetly, so softly, followed by a small sigh that was mixed with a whimper, the sound making every part of him ignite with a need to claim you.

Still holding your chin between his finger and thumb, he crashed against your mouth, his tongue diving in deeply to taste you, swallowing each breathy cry that passed through your lips.

After a moment he let his hand fall to your neck, gently cradling your vulnerable column in his grasp, the thrum of your heartbeat vibrating against his palm as he reluctantly broke away from your kiss, his hands moving to grip the hem of your shirt and lift it off of you.

You looked at him calmly and full of trust, a tell in your gaze that he knew no one else would ever be lucky enough to receive and he would never take for granted.

You hummed and closed your eyes when his fingers slowly unfastened the button on your jeans, your body completely still other than your chest rising and falling with deep breaths as he slid the zipper down and pulled the denim to the floor.

Will pressed a kiss on your bare thigh while he helped you step out of each leg, moving up to pepper across your hips, and you squirmed slightly at the sensation as his hands splayed out on your waist, his nose running up from your navel to your chest and further still to your neck as he stood tall again.

He spun you around, his mouth landing on your neck as he peeled the straps of your bra down each arm, moving to kiss each shoulder in turn once they were bare, one of his hands unclasping the hook at your back.

His lips returned to your neck, sucking and licking at your tender skin, his fingers reaching around to pluck at your nipples that hardened from being uncovered and from his touch, your bum pressing into his cock that strained in his jeans when you arched into him.

He sighed against your skin, relishing in this moment, knowing only he got to undress, reveal and expose every sacred part of you increasing his desire to love you even harder.

Keeping one hand on your body, squeezing and caressing your flesh, he used his other to unfasten his jeans, ridding them as quickly as he could, his cock springing out to hit your cheeks when he pulled his boxers down his legs. Done with undressing himself, he slid his hand in the waist of your panties, rubbing your clit and smearing your slick up until you were whining and your breathing was growing ragged, your body simultaneously moving into and away from his touch.

“On the bed,” he ordered, his voice gruff.

You took a step forward, crawling on your hands and knees onto the mattress, the view making his cock twitch. He eagerly followed, his fingers catching in the waist of your panties to pull them over your ass as you moved forward, showing him your wet cunt that was more than ready for him.

Him and only him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, swiping two fingers through your folds, his eyes locked on your core like he was in a trance.

“Will, please,” you begged, your plea his to fulfill.

His.

He leaned over you, his hand smoothing over one of your cheeks to spread it apart, his thumb brushing your puckered hole as he did, his other bracing on the bed beside yours where he covered it and locked his fingers between yours.

Edging closer to you, he rubbed his groin against your lifted ass, his dick knocking against you as he settled behind you and between your legs.

Will moved his hips back and forth, dragging his cock along your folds, your hips lifting to try to land him inside your waiting pussy, and finally he did, a low groan coming from him as you cried and gripped the sheets with your free hand.

“Will!” you wailed, needily and submissively.

He pulled out slowly and drove back in again, filling you with himself, watching you melt to his movements.

It was his cock you were taking, your pleasure brought on by him, the reminder making him almost feel dizzy.

He moved the hand that was groping the flesh on your hips down to your stomach, securing it on you as he shifted forward to move you both further onto the bed, keeping himself buried in you as he adjusted.

“Lay down, sweetheart,” he urged, swelling with pride as you promptly abided, never hesitating to follow his instructions out of the pure love and trust you had in him.

Covering your body with his, he laid on top of you, rutting deeply into you with powerful strokes, the fat head of his cock hitting your g-spot each time.

He kissed your upper back, shoulders and neck, feeling you move under his weight as much as you could, your sweet moans filling the air and filling him with a satisfaction like no other.

He swore each time he pressed his lips against your neck you would declare your love for him, singing it over and over as your mantra that gave him every bit of confidence that no one else would ever have the privilege to be loved by you.

“Fuck – I love you, Will!”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he would insist in return every time, never missing an opportunity to tell you and never wanting your love for him to feel unreciprocated.

“God, Will…” you continuously moaned, his name never sounding sweeter than off your lips.

He thrusted in you deeper, slower, giving you everything he had, your body responding to his generous pleasure in fits of cries and the roll of your hips.

He growled against your neck.

It was him who was making you moan and writhe with pleasure.

His cock filling you up.

His mouth tasting your sweat and feeling the softness of your skin.

You squeezed his hand, a signal of nearing your peak, encouraging him to fuck you harder and more thoroughly than ever, a sense of avariciousness blanketing him and turning him feral.

“I want to hear you scream my name,” he barked, his teeth grazing the skin on your nape where you shuddered and took in a sharp breath.

You reacted almost immediately to his ministrations, your form tensing below him, your muscles spasming and tightening, choking him as you came hard and soaked his cock that he pumped in and out of you furiously, his hand that wasn’t still holding yours sliding under your body to massage your clit.

His name cut through the air sharply.

Loud and unrestrained.

His name and no one else’s.

He bucked into you wildly, his open mouth smearing spit across your shoulder, continuing to rub your swollen bud roughly until he felt you explode around him again, all of it leading to his own end.

Your tight walls coaxed every drop of cum out of him, pulsing and drawing every ounce of his hot load, filling you to the brim as you squirmed underneath him, his eyes finally able to focus again where he saw your own saliva staining the sheets beside your face, your cheeks wet with tears and sweat, and you’d never looked so beautiful.

Will quickly pulled out of you and flipped you over so you were on your back, pushing back into your messy cunt while he grabbed your hand and locked your fingers together, bringing them up beside your head as he kissed you fiercely, still doing everything in his power to show you that only he could love you this much.

“Will…” you breathed when given a moment to, angling your hips to put him deeper inside you, the way you called his name different than just moments ago; full of love and adoration and devotion, just as you were still full of him.

He smiled against your lips, confident that no matter what, his was the name that would always tumble from your fucked-out lips, your body and heart his to possess.

You were sure it was just the drinks and the music and being with your friends that had you smiling the way you were, but as you sat at the well-used table at the country bar downtown and your mind began to drift to thoughts of Will, you knew the grin on your lips was all down to him.

“Man, you’ve really got it bad,” Grace laughed, like she knew exactly what you were thinking.

You simply nodded and shrugged, knowing there was no point in denying it or trying to pretend otherwise.

“And you said he has a brother, right?” your other friend Jess asked, having joined the three of you tonight.

Nicole nodded enthusiastically, “He’s just your type, too.”

“You don’t say! Well if he’s even half as good looking and satisfying as Will apparently is, I’ll have won the lottery!”

“I can introduce you,” you chimed, taking a sip of your drink.

“Yeah, I won’t hold my breath! It took us enough to just get you out of Will’s bed to come out with us tonight.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up, and you looked down at the table, your finger tracing in the wet ring of condensation from your glass, thinking back to that last few days and how simply perfect everything was.

Despite having spent every moment possible together, you felt like a part of you was missing, having agreed to peel away from each other so you could see your girlfriends and Will could go out with the guys after Benny’s fight, no amount of time together feeling like it was ever enough.

As if you sensed it, you looked up and through the crowd dancing between the bar and the front door, seeing five familiar men strut through, a pair of icy blue eyes locking with yours.

You laughed and bit your lip, more heat coursing through your body as Will matched your smile and winked at you, and you gave a wave to Frankie, Benny, Santiago and Tom who all made their way to the bar to get drinks.

“Out of all the bars…” Tom said with a chuckle, and you heard him ask the bartender to send another round of the same drinks to your table.

“We won’t bother you ladies!” Santiago called, earning some comebacks from the girls, but all you and Will could do was share a look that made your heart beat faster in your chest and butterflies swarm in your stomach.

Benny scoffed at Santiago’s remark. “Well now, I didn’t agree to that…” he drawled.

His blue eyes were fixed on Jess, grabbing his beer and sauntering over where he pulled out a chair and sat backwards on it next to her, introducing himself with as much confidence as ever despite the fresh bruises and cuts on his face.

The rest of the guys went and found their own table not too far off, forcing you to try to pretend like it wasn’t killing you to be so close yet so far away from Will, having a perfect view of him laughing and talking with his buddies and brothers-in-arms, vowing to focus on your own friends who you loved more than anything and deserved your attention.

It was almost thrilling in a way, acting as if you weren’t head over heels in love with each other and were strangers instead, sharing loaded glances across the tables that separated you that gave a hint of the types of fantasies playing out in your minds that were in fact very real and recent memories, feeling like every song that played was about you.

Jess and Benny were hitting it off, tucked together closely in their own little world while you, Nicole and Grace continued on with your night, laughing and singing and dancing, and whenever you checked over at the other table, Will and the other guys were relaxed and enjoying themselves.

Another hour or so had passed, a decent, warm buzz flowing through your veins as you watched Will lean against the bar nursing his beer while chatting with Frankie.

You continued to refrain from going over to him, choosing to admire him from afar and wait until you got back home to get your hands on him, but every time you saw the muscles in his back flex whenever he moved it became increasingly difficult, your draw to him its own beast.

The way he would look over his shoulder at you didn’t help your cause either, his gaze loaded and full of a knowledge of exactly what was happening with your body each time he did, completely honed in on the way you would shift in your seat like he was perfectly aware of how wet your panties were or how it felt whenever your shirt grazed over your peaked nipples.

You had just given yourself another reminder to be patient and wait until you were home to talk to him, knowing if you went within a foot of him your hands wouldn’t be able to stop touching his thick, warm body and you would be inclined to press your lips on every part of him you could while trying to remain respectable in a public setting, but then your favourite song came on and any restraint you scarcely had went right out the window.

‘You Look Like You Love Me’ by Ella Langley and Riley Green came over the speakers, pulling an even broader smile out on your cheeks until they hurt, and without hesitation, you were on your feet and essentially floating over to Will.

You were already singing the lyrics, watching as Will’s grin stretched wider and his chest moved with a chuckle, a look that was full of endearment directed at you as you stood beside him and sang to him.

“Excuse me, you look like you love me,” you sang, your hand trailing up his arm and across his back, your touch making him melt as he continued to smile and nod in agreement to the words of the song.

He pivoted to face you, his large hands landing on your hips that swayed to the tempo, a familiar hunger mixing with the adoration on his features.

“You look like you want me to want you to come on home…”

He nodded again, a quiet ‘Yeah’ sounding off his breath.

Before you could get another line out his mouth was covering yours, bending you back to dip you as he supported you with his arm on your lower back, your friends all cheering around you.

You gasped for air when he pulled you up again and broke your kiss, seeing him lick his lips that were still stretched in the most gorgeous, crooked smirk, and you knew you couldn't be expected to wait any longer to have him.

“Take me home, Will,” you whispered, a seriousness falling over your words despite the cheery tone of the song still playing around you.

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he purred, his lust-filled eyes flickering over your features.

Will made sure rides were arranged before you left, confirming with Frankie that he would help get the rest of the group home in his truck and that the other girls would get a cab as was previously planned.

“I can’t believe Benny and Jess,” he commented, smiling as he looked back over his shoulder at them while he held the door open for you.

“They suit each other,” you said warmly, a sense of contentment and joy filling you and feeling like everything was finally turning out right.

Raindrops sprinkled on your head when you stepped outside, the night air dewy and warm, breathing in the smell of rain instead of stale smoke and spilled beer.

The lights on Will’s truck flashed twice as he hit the button on his keys to unlock it, illuminating the steady streams of rain that seemed to be falling more with each second.

You went to step around to the passenger side, but stopped when Will called to you.

“Hey, get back here.”

There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and a playful grin tugged up one side of his mouth, his hands held out with his palms facing upward for you to take which you happily did.

He closed his hands around yours and pulled you into him, kissing you hard, a low chuckle rumbling through you as he wrapped his arms around your back and held you closer to him.

You let out a squeal that was swallowed by him, the rain falling faster and harder and soaking through your clothes within seconds, the sound of each drop hitting the hood of his truck echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet parking lot.

You threw your arms up around the back of his neck, arching your body into his, his hands roaming your back and lower to your bum, squeezing and groping you without shame.

“Mmm,” he growled against your lips, slowing your kiss as he brought his hands up to hold either side of your face.

The smile on your lips was lazy and swollen and they glistened with moisture from both the rain and his mouth, the orange glow from the light pole in the corner of the parking lot illuminating them and making him even hungrier to get you home.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he declared, kissing you again as the rain continued to fall down on you, feeling rushed and unhurried all at once.

Will sighed for the third time, adjusting his pillow on the bed and turning over frustratedly.

You didn't say anything, waiting to see if he would calm down or if the situation was about to escalate.

Benny’s t.v. was so loud in his room it was as if it was on the nightstand beside Will’s bed, and his loud laughter that followed the noise of the show was just as extreme.

“Ben!” Will shouted, propping himself up and hitting the wall behind him with his hand.

He waited a few seconds but nothing changed, the volume remaining the same as he clearly went unheard.

“Ben!” he yelled again, hitting the wall three more times. “Turn it down, man! Fuck!”

He fell back against his pillow hard, breathing out heavily as he ran his hand over his face.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Do you want to go to my house instead?” you offered, knowing this likely wasn't going to end well, the tension between the two brother’s having increased over the past week.

They were all little grievances that seemed to be adding up; getting in each other’s way or eating the last of whatever food, a mess left in the kitchen or one of them doing a load of laundry while the other was in the shower, the small spats evolving into something you knew would come to a head.

Benny laughed even harder and Will shook his head in agreement. “Yeah. Before one of us punches the other.”

“You mean you punching him?” you giggled, climbing out of bed to get dressed.

“Exactly,” Will said, his eyebrows high on his forehead as he stood and grabbed his boxers from the floor and then a t-shirt. “I love the kid and I appreciate him taking me in, but man does he ever get on my nerves sometimes.”

You stopped where you were on the opposite side of the bed, frozen and without thinking as you blurted out something you had been considering for weeks now.

“Move in with me.”

Will stopped too, his hands landing on his hips after having pulled on his track pants. staring at you across the queen sized mattress.

“What?”

“Move in with me,” you repeated, smiling as you shrugged, your heart pounding in your chest as you saw the grin on his face grow.

“Really?” he asked, his tone and expression completely surprised.

“Yeah, really.”

You stood there nodding, watching his features change from shocked to elated, an emotion turning his blue eyes as wet as the waters they resembled as he walked over to you and grabbed hold of your face, leaning down to kiss you.

It had felt a bit silly to keep going back and forth between houses, one of you usually forgetting something you needed or having double of everything so you didn’t have to drag everything to and from, and since you got back together there wasn’t a night you could go without sleeping beside each other.

You were so nervous to ask, but this seemed to be the best way to go about it, your instincts taking over and giving you the confidence needed to get out of your own head and dive in, knowing from his reaction that he wouldn't be anything other than happy and excited.

He pulled away from you and looked at you with so much love and appreciation in his eyes, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks as he worked to get his words out.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he began, glancing down briefly between your bodies to try to control his emotions. “I've spent so long never having a home, bouncing from place to place between deployments, and when I did have my own,” he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, “the other person didn’t want me to be a part of it.”

It always broke your heart to hear of the hell his ex put him through, unable to believe someone could treat him so poorly when all he ever was was loving and honourable, and it made your decision in asking him to live with you even more right.

“I want you, Will. I want all of you, always,” you whispered, nudging his cheek with your nose, feeling his breath gasp out onto your lips when he exhaled a relieved cry.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, holding him tight until he was ready to pull away from you.

“Let’s go home, Miller,” you smiled, holding his hands where he squeezed yours three times.

He pulled in your driveway and parked his truck just as he had all the other times before, only this time it felt different.

Your house had always felt like home to him, but now it actually was, and the feeling he had in his chest was overwhelming.

“You can start moving your stuff over tomorrow,” you said, making him look over at you with a soft smile. “I’ll be at work but you might as well get a start.”

“Yeah, okay,” he nodded, smiling bigger.

You both got out of the truck and started walking toward the door, you filing through the keys on your keychain for the one for the front door.

“I’ll get you one made tomorrow,” you said, putting it in the lock.

“Are you sure you want this?” Will asked, making you stop what you were doing and turn to face him.

A solemn look was on his face, his apprehension and insecurity clear on his features even in the dark.

“Will…” you urged, stepping toward him. “I’ve never been more sure. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

He smirked and looked down at the porch, sighing as he seemed to realize that his anxiety was getting the better of him.

“I was thinking about asking you for a while now, I was just nervous and thought it was too soon or you wouldn’t want to–”

He cut you off when he crashed his mouth against yours, pulling you into him at the same time he turned the doorknob to open the door, walking inside while still attached to your lips.

You broke apart after a minute, and you stood breathless as you watched Will gently close the door, keeping eye contact with you the whole time.

The smile he gave you and the look in his eyes lit your skin on fire, and you held your breath without thinking, watching as he walked toward you slowly.

“If this is going to be our house,” he spoke carefully, “Then I’m going to need to fuck you on every, single, surface…”

He closed the space between you, forcing you to lean back against the small hall table that sat on the wall, the clink of his keys in the dish where you kept yours making you jump.

“Starting now.”

A wicked smile that made you melt dressed his gorgeous lips, his face hovering beside yours but not touching you, teasing and testing your patience.

“Turn around, sweetheart,” he cooed, and as you did, your track pants were already being tugged down your hips, your panties along with them, and you braced your hands on the wall knowing that the table wouldn’t support the force he was about to unleash on you.

“Are you wet for me, baby?” he asked, driving his hand between your legs where he stroked through your folds to check.

You gasped at the sensation and pressed your hips down to increase the contact, needing to feel as much of him as you could even if you weren’t ready to take him yet.

It didn’t take long though, feeling your slick accumulate and spread on his fingers the moment he planted his lips on your neck and started kissing you, your moans sounding out to mix with his heavy breathing as he got more worked up with each second that ticked by.

You reached behind you and grabbed his hard cock through his pants, running your palm up and down his length that strained through the soft material, his teeth nipping at the skin on your neck in response.

“Fuck, sweetheart, let me in that pussy,” he growled, pulling his pants down where his cock sprung free and you were able to massage the silky, bare skin before he shoved it between your cheeks and dragged it in and out to prep it with your arousal.

Just to be sure you were lubricated enough, Will spit in his hand and covered his shaft, his teeth clenching together tight as he did, watching you arch your back to shift your ass closer to him, your legs spread to display your waiting cunt for him.

He drove in hard between your folds, filling you in one swift movement, his thrust slamming you forward with such force it jolted the table against the wall, your hands flying up to stop yourself from falling into it too.

Will didn’t seem to care about marking up the paint or how unsteady you were on your feet, hammering into you with a ferocity that made your head spin and your body respond by succumbing to his movements, feeling your climax already building quickly, a shiver running up your spine.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled, his pace increasing despite you finding it unbelievable that it could, and he wrapped one hand around to your front that wasn’t holding your hips to keep you on his cock, grabbing at your tits that shook under your thin t-shirt.

You did everything you could to find something to hold onto, the wall no use with your hands slipping down it, the table shaking violently in front of you, but it was all you had, and as you landed your palms on it you saw the dish holding both your sets of keys in it wobble to the edge and fall, the glass smashing on the floor.

A laugh escaped you, quickly turning into a cry as Will continued to destroy you, his name coming off your lips in a mix of a plea and a praise.

“God, Will!”

The tip of his cock hit your g-spot with each blow, making you ache and melt with each second that passed, your mouth hanging slack while uncontrollable moans came out of it, your resolve reduced to nothing.

“Look at you taking my cock so well,” he praised, a bit of amusement heard in his voice, giving your nipple a twist before lowering his hand to your clit where he rubbed it quickly and aggressively as he kept his brutal tempo.

“Fuck!” you wailed, your eyes squeezing shut as your body jolted from his advances, slipping between falling apart and holding off your imminent orgasm, wanting it to happen just as badly as you wanted this to never end.

“God damn,” he muttered, stealing a glance down at his cock disappearing in and out of your cunt that leaked and coated him with your cream.

That addictive, blinding euphoria ripped through you, making you buckle and collapse in a spasm but Will was there to catch you, supporting you with his arms wrapping around your torso while he rammed into you and prolonged your high, letting up something he could never consider.

Broken wails of his name decorated with curses spilled from your mouth, feeling your body start to come back to functioning right when he was losing his control, his grunts bellowing out loud and clear behind you as he used you to fuck to his end.

He held you close to him, gripping your flesh tight as he bucked furiously into you and filled you with his cum, and you purposefully squeezed your walls around his pulsing cock to draw every last drop out of him.

The scruffiness of his beard scratched your neck, adding to the overwhelming sensations already bombarding you, feeling goosebumps erupt on your skin as you shivered and his breath blew out on the wet spots left behind on your neck from his mouth.

He stuttered his hips against your ass one last time, a quiet curse coming off his lips as he started to settle from his high.

Will pulled out of you and assessed the area around you, seeing the shattered glass to the left of where you both stood, and carefully kneeled on the rug, his hands smoothing down your waist, his lips meeting the soft skin on your hips and bum.

He heard your smile, a sated noise passing off your lips, making him ache to have you close to him again and not wanting to move on from this moment quite yet.

Grabbing your hand, he tugged on it for you to follow him.

“Come here a sec,” he requested quietly, looking up at you as you turned around and complied, meeting him on the floor where he pulled you to lay with him.

Will sighed and let his head thud against the hardwood floor, staring up at the ceiling as he relished in the movement of your fingers gently sweeping up and down his stomach after having lifted his shirt up, your head nestled on his chest.

“So, every room in the house?” you asked, a playfulness clear in your voice.

“Not just every room,” he corrected. “Every surface.”

You squealed when he pinched your ass, pulling you tighter to his body where his laugh rumbled through him and onto you, your hand dancing up the trail of blond hairs that connected his navel to his groin.

You shifted your feet and kicked one of your sets of keys that had fallen, the jingle of them making you giggle and readjust your head on his chest after glancing to see you hadn’t hit any of the broken glass.

Will grabbed a chunk of it and held it up. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“You better wait to see what else we end up breaking.”

He laughed and let the piece fall back onto the floor beside him, turning his head to press a kiss on the top of yours, and inhaled another deep, satisfied breath as he closed his eyes, thinking how lucky he was to be loved by you.

---

Part 10

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

#will miller #triple frontier #charlie hunnam #will miller x female reader #will miller x reader #will 'ironhead' miller #will miller smut #william miller #william 'ironhead' miller #triple frontier fic #charlie hunnam characters

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 6 months ago

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There's something in the differing emphasis that Brad and Hunter and Charles place on the phrase "good guy" that really affected me on my first watch and hit even harder on my second. I'm going to try and put it into words.

When Brad and Hunter say it, they say "we're good guys", as in, good at everything a guy "should" be good at - good at sports, popular with the ladies, on their way to a good university. But they turn out to be total shitheads. They don't care about being "good", they just care about their reputation, how they're perceived. It's status and power - they're good guys and they feel entitled to do whatever they want.

But when Charles, feeling betrayed by this reveal of their character, says he wanted them to be good guys, the emphasis is completely different. Charles wants to be a "good guy". He doesn't want to be a "bad guy".

The emphasis is on good, because that's really the crux of Charles' greatest fears, isn't it?

When Charles wants to be a good guy, he doesn't mean it the way Brad and Hunter do; that veneer of goodness that comes with popularity. He means that nothing he did was ever good enough for his dad. Doing the good thing and helping that kid his "friends" were beating up literally got him killed. Trying to stop Devlin only got him trapped in the loop, stuck until his friends freed him, only able to watch helplessly as a mother and her innocent children get slashed to death before his eyes.

And it's this helplessness that is the thing that truly sets him off at the end of episode 4.

It always struck me just how much of his breakdown there, for as much as he finally gives a voice to his own hurt at the injustice of his situation, was still about other people. Because he was secure-ish, at one point, when he was Edwin's partner and protector. He thought he did a good job at it anyways, but guess not, because something obviously happened with Edwin and he's not talking to him about it. And he likes to think he did good with solving cases, but Crystal is still hurting and haunted by a demon and nearly threw herself off a cliff earlier that day because she wants her parents so badly, and he's no closer to helping her solve that. And all of it, every single part of it, is a reflection of his own unresolved trauma; that he never "made it better" and he can't, so now he tries to be good enough for other people, but that isn't working anymore either, and now someone is threatening to take Edwin away, and even this final shocking act of anger and violence is still in service of protecting; of saving someone from the suffering he was never able to escape except by fucking dying.

His anger, really, stems from the injustice of it all, and the abuse of power by guys who can get away with it because they're guys, when they should've, could've, been good to others instead. It's a large part of why he projected so strongly onto Brad and Hunter - they did everything right, they were good guys who got screwed over, because even if everyone seems to love you, there's always that one person you can never please, right? Who will hurt you, no matter how good you are. When it's revealed that Brad and Hunter are far more like his bullies, like Devlin, like his dad, than he'd thought - controlling, intolerant, cruel to those who "step out of line" - Charles feels betrayed and horrified because he related to them... so what does that say about him?

But here's one major difference that Charles does not seem to recognize well. Charles has never had the power in these situations. He was the victim, and his being the victim is through no fault of his own, but the fault of those who decided to be cruel. It is certainly not contingent on how good he is. Being good in the eyes of people who want to hurt you will not stop them from hurting you.

When he lashes out at the Night Nurse, it's out of helplessness and rage. Once again, he's pitted against someone who holds more power than he does and is threatening harm, and he's just been bitterly, brutally reminded that a smile and a helping hand and a firm word never, ever worked to make it stop. There's only one other way he can think of to shift the balance of power, and he's finally livid enough to actually do it. This violence is a desperate attempt to finally overcome yet another force much greater than him, a transdimensional entity that has unjustly arrived to take his best friend to Hell. And Charles wins, he did it, he stopped her, at least for the moment. But at what cost, when he looks at his friends and can't tell whether they look more scared for him or of him? And can he blame them, when he's clearly scared of his own anger and how overwhelming it is now that it's been let out?

Because he tries so hard to be good and it's never good enough to stop the suffering. Because that anger rose to the surface so easily and maybe that means he's not good at all.

But of course, Charles once again misses something important here - there is a distinction in why that anger exists. His dad, Devlin, and Brad and Hunter get angry because their power over others makes them feel they have a right to punish when things don't go their way. Charles gets angry because he feels more helpless than he'd care to admit, and seeing cruelty inflicted onto others by those with power makes him want to cut them down to size.

And herein lies the second major difference. Charles... is a kind person, at heart. He's genuine. He really does likes helping out, he likes making people happy, he doesn't turn people away who need help, he's friendly and protective. The scene where Edwin pulls him out of his fear that he's somehow bad even though he really doesn't want to be, is outright one of my favourite scenes for what it brings to both of their characters. Edwin knows exactly what to say. While it's always good to check your behaviour, to apologize and take accountability - because no one can be good all the time, and even the most well-intentioned of us will mess up sometimes - Edwin is right.

"Bad guys do not worry about being bad guys."

#storyrambles #hope this made sense. ended up being a lot longer than i meant it to whew.#anyways. charles you mean so much to me :')#dead boy detectives #charles rowland #dbda meta #I FORGOT MY BELOVED ANALYSIS TAG ->#call me ace detective the way i am ace. and also a detective.

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nicksbestie · 9 months ago

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i love your work sm! can you write a johnnie fic where he had a long day and the reader is cuddling with him and telling him how proud they are of him. i just feel like johnnie needs to hear it 🫶🏼 thank you!!

thank you SO SO SO much!! i absolutely can <3 I loved this prompt!!

my reqs are now closed but please come chat about jake and johnnie with me whenever!!

Tired

warnings : mentions of mental health and negativity, feelings of depression and sadness

word count : 811

pairing : johnnie guilbert/reader (romantic)

enjoy!!! <3

Content creation could take a lot out of a person, especially when they were already struggling with their mental health. Despite the fact that it could be more flexible than a more average job, it can still provide the same, if not more, amounts of stress. Once you start a career like that, especially when it gains following and attention, you have a large internet presence, and people on the internet can be so incredibly cruel. People are more confident than ever when they are hiding behind the safety of a screen, unlikely to be revealed, and that shows in any career with a majorly online platform.

This wasn’t to say that there weren’t a lot of positives to having a more internet focused career, like the flexible hours, and sometimes the pay is even better than any other job, if your following is big enough. And most of the time, the positives are enough to keep you going through the negative portions. However, sometimes those negative portions feel like they’re going to be the end of your career. Johnnie had been growing a large internet presence for years now, and had seen or gone through just about everything there was to see or go through. But that didn’t mean that it affected him any less, and sometimes, the fact that he had seen it before caused it to affect him more.

Today was one of those bad days, where the negative parts had gotten to be way too much. You weren’t aware of this quite yet, due to the fact that you weren’t home yet. You were on the way home, and had no idea that Johnnie’s work day had not gone as planned. His stream had ended abruptly, you knew that, and way before it was scheduled to end, but you had chalked it up to some technical mishap or something of the sort, as that difficulty did happen every once in a while. It wasn’t often, but you knew that it wouldn’t be too out of the norm, and it wouldn’t have raised many alarm bells with his fanbase. So, you weren’t worried at all, thinking you had no reason to be as you pulled into your garage, walking into the house and calling out that you were home.

You did become a little confused when you got no response. Johnnie always called back to you, regardless of whether he was working or not. You always came home at nearly exactly the same time, and he knew that, so whatever he had or was playing, he always had the volume down low enough so he could hear when you came in and began talking to him. Due to this, you went looking for him, gently knocking on his bedroom door when you realized it was locked. He had a key above his bedroom door, in case of any emergency, but you would never open it without his permission. You respected his privacy, and because of that, you spoke through the door, asking if he, or you, could open the door.

Once you received his affirmation that you could open it, you reached up to grab the key from the top of the doorway, and easily unlocked the door. Walking in, your heart felt like it was breaking. The room was as dark as possible, the shades on the windows closed tightly, no lights on, not even his monitors. Your boyfriend was nearly invisible, seemingly attempting to hide under his blankets, his back to you, completely ignoring the fact that you had just walked in. You sat down on the side of the bed, softly pulling the covers back and resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Baby, what’s going on?”

He didn’t turn to look at you, simply shrugging.

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

You stayed silent for a minute, laying down next to him and throwing the covers back over you both.

“You’re clearly not fine. But if you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to. Do you want a hug?”

He immediately turned over, letting you wrap your arms around him, and your heart broke into even more pieces when you saw the tear tracks staining his makeup free cheeks. He hid his face once he realized that you had noticed how it looked, refusing to speak, and just letting you hold him. You had absolutely no problems staying there as long as he needed you to be there, and it ended up being a couple of hours. You were hugging him, reminding him that he was loved, and that you were proud of him. You were sure that he would be back to his normal self soon, but you were more than happy to help him carry the emotional weight while he was struggling. After all, that’s what you do for the people you love.

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fic #johnnie guilbert fanfiction #johnnie and jake #fanfic #jake webber fluff #jake webber fanfic #jake webber fanfiction #jake webber #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert smut

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morning-star-joy · 1 year ago

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but you know the killer doesn't understand (Joel x F!Reader)

Pairing: Post!Outbreak Neighbors Joel x F!Reader

Summary: When Joel returns to Jackson and meets you, his new neighbor, he knows right away he's fucked.

Request: Reader being Joel’s neighbor and reader is super kind and and nice to everyone (especially Joel and Ellie) and having this lightness and softness about her and they’re kinda in love with each other but Joel won’t admit and allow himself to act on it (full request)

Tags/Warnings: Language, Joel is bad at feelings, innocence kink. Series will include angst, mutual pining and TW mentions of previous miscarriage

Wordcount: 784

A/N: There will be multiple parts to this! Ty lovely anon for sharing your beautiful idea and entrusting it to me

Part I || Part II || Part III || Masterlist (More Parts Coming Soon)

Joel Miller masterlist

Joel Miller was not a kind man.

Any kindness he ever had lingering in his soul had been eradicated over twenty years spent doing whatever it took to survive after the end of the world.

It was just the way that it was. After so much loss and suffering, so much blood spilled from his own body and from those that he had not only killed, but tortured, in cruel, unimaginable ways—there was no way that he could still manage to be soft.

Hell, or anybody else, for that matter. Joel was of the firm belief that nobody who had made it this far didn’t have blood on their hands. In fact, it was just about the only thing he still believed in: the indisputable fact that every person in this fucked up world was just as fucked up as it was.

That was, until he met you.

When he and Ellie returned to Jackson, and she moved into the garage on his property as he settled into that large house that almost unnerved him with how quiet and peaceful it was, he was content to be a recluse in the settlement. Joel would do what he could to protect the town—he owed Tommy that much—but he wouldn’t go out of his way to do something as mundanely trivial as make friends.

And then you showed up on his doorstep a few days after he arrived, standing there in a faded sundress with a plate of something that smelled so tempting in some kind of peace offering he would have expected before the apocalypse, but not ever since society had crumbled down.

There was a soft smile on your face, a warmth in your eyes that had Joel completely taken aback and, fuck, he already knew he was in for it just then, before you even opened your mouth.

“You’re Joel, right?” you said in a voice as soft as that smile, kindness oozing from every word in a way that almost made Joel start to feel uncomfortable because what was the catch?

“Joel Miller?" you tried to clarify by adding his last name when he didn't answer, but you were seemingly unfazed when he still didn't say anything as you continued, "I’m friends with Maria and Tommy. They mentioned you had just moved in.”

You leaned back then, turning your face so you could point at the house next door, but Joel was too busy glancing over your face, searching for a sign of weariness, of deceit, trying to convince himself you were just as tired and mean and fucked up as the rest of them.

“I live next door,” you explained with the pointing before your hand went back to the plate, and you held it out further, making Joel lean back slightly. “I just wanted to come by and say, well…welcome to Jackson!”

You smiled again, almost a grin now, a cheerfulness that made Joel stiffen as his chest tightened with an unfamiliar feeling. It was one that had once been well-known in another life, before he had lost everything.

A feeling he had never wanted to experience again.

So he took the plate, muttering a gruff thanks as his Southern upbringing—as far away as it was now—wouldn’t let him do otherwise, even as he quickly shut the door right in your face directly afterwards.

He had expected you to linger for a moment, probably taken aback by his abrupt rudeness at your gesture of neighborly peace, so he wasn’t surprised when he didn’t hear your feet retreat from the other side of the door right away.

What did shock him was when you called out your name, introducing yourself even through the wall of the too damn big, too damn peaceful and quiet house before your footsteps finally did click across the porch as you left.

Click? Had you been wearing heels? He couldn’t remember, but he felt a surge of something and, fuck.

Joel said nothing as he crossed through the house to the back door, heading to Ellie’s small abode to drop off what he realized from the annoyingly delicious smell was banana bread, so the girl could eat it.

She had accepted it with enthusiasm, asking him where he got it, a scarred eyebrow arching with interest as Joel merely mumbled an annoyed “neighbor” before leaving.

When preparing for bed that night, all Joel could think of was the click of a heel, the scent of freshly baked sweets, a delicate finger pointing towards a house right next door, the flare of a pale yellow dress as you turned and fuck.

Fuck, this was bad.

You were bad.

Because you were good, and he was bad.

Fuck.

#joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller series

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anantaru · 2 years ago

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cw. yandere blade, toxic, suggestve, fem! reader

blade doesn‘t fall in love easily.

beyond everything, he never envisioned himself to be faced with such vigorous sentiments by origin— from first principles and a closer look at his perceptions, you can refer to his views as ignorance or blindness, something he gazed down on in an almost smug way.

but when he does, he doesn't think it was fun nor comfortable, but entirely has he decided that he‘d burn entire worlds down if it meant for you to remain close to his side, so you wouldn't be able to leave him behind.

then again, maybe he should burn them down regardless, not only for you, but to demonstrate the love he felt, or the very emotion he confused as love...

"it is a necessary hardness." a remembrance of his first sentence towards his cruel directions in life, you reminisce about it vividly. but you hold his eye contact, only distantly, yet refuse to give him any further satisfaction.

it really doesn’t need a genius to figure out what was displayed before one, it being the heart of a passionate, driven person— the emotions intense and wild, allied with a roaring storm, the bolds of lightning signalizing his darkened perceptions and blanketing any good, as if there was any good to begin with.

so he stood calm where he was standing before slumping down next to you, mattress shifting at his added weight. "you didn't have to do this." you silently speak again, just from below him, your breath hitching ever so slightly as his entire body leans into your figure.

you have to remain careful, you realize, but his eyes would be an intoxicating weapon, flickering up before you watch him place his hand on top of your lower stomach.

"do you love me?" his expression stood still, passive for the most time, but awaiting a quick response, he wasn't even sure you would answer his question, because his trust in you had graven limits.

you remark back, "i wouldn't be here if i didn't." and force your body to relax under his freezing handle before allowing him to slide his large hand into your garments, your entire skin slowly beginning to feel the untwist under his heedful but possessive ministrations.

"good." blade was simultaneously fascinated and petrified by your outwardly real devotion, "but do you love me?"

silence, blade again, doesn't think it was funny for you to ask such insolent question and demand an answer from him in the first place, so he leaves it unchallenged to obscure through the dark room and carried on to smoother a painfully slow motion on your cunt.

you found yourself longing the intimacy and pull your hips upwards, cradling your arms around the man and holding him close by his shoulders, but the lack of response flooded your mind with deeply broken thoughts. "you're mine." yet at last, there it was, a subtle meaning, with a hidden truth.

his fingertips were warm and dampened by your slick, working in sharp angles on your soft skin. it burned your body with a sort of desperate fever to be able to call yourself his. he could tell that you weren't entirely satisfied though, but blade, could he really answer your question how you so desired it?

your heart grew louder, pounding hard against his strong chest and a 'o' of bare lust formed on your glistening lips, pushing against him further, letting him get to know your scent— the one that set his loins on fire, made him lick his lips with a devil-like grin crossing the outsides of his mouth.

blade could feel you constrict around his first finger and wanted to push himself aside, he wanted to feel you for real now, feverishly dragging his skin against your own as he coos sweet ministrations into your ear.

did his words hold any graven significance? they might, he recalls becoming vulnerable whenever he had gotten intimate with you and it scared him, the thought in particular was frightening— of letting his cruel mask fall flat in front of another person.

but the man wanted to sink into every secret part of your body, experience each bend and curve, and be held. blade watches your back arch into his body as he adds a second finger into your tight hole, flawlessly pulling in and out of your entrance, in and out in and out, scraping his finger pads along your slicked walls.

he wonders how far he could go, or if he should ever tell you about the things you do not know, about commodities he did in order for you to remain devoted and obedient, unknowing and naive.

at the inside, he prefers the idea that came inwardly, occupying his mind— about the secrecy of it all, that he doesn't want your pretty head to worry about anything or everything, why else would you love him if he were to expose you to his blood stained intrigues?

he shrugs himself into your neck before locking a bundle of flesh in between his sharp teeth, sucking on your sensitive parts and keeping an almost calculative pace on your pussy, well, the one that belonged to him of course.

you should feel honored that he always feels the painful need to touch you the moment he sees you fly over his mesmerizing pair of eyes.

with a higher pitched whine, you writhe under his now warmer body, your thighs clamping desperately around his arm as blade adds a third and final finger to lengthen your orgasm filling you whole, laughing lightly as you came on his palm, hard and catching an unimpeded view of his erected length brushing against his pants.

he feels that impulse again and begins to unconsciously rub his hips into your thigh— right after feeling your little hole tense up and down, he hears you whisper a soft "please", only watching a few seconds longer before pushing his long fingers back into your cunt and catching you off guard, your lack of breathing control making itself visible in your aching throat.

to touch you more, to rip your clothes off your skin, to kiss every inch of your body, worship, it's feral, that's what it was, but was it love? there is much about him that you do not know, can never know because it would scare you even more, blade fears.

but presently, even just by doing this, by pleasing your needs, blade knows it's the only way for him to convey his love ...

... or the frightening emotion he mistook for love.

#blade x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #blade smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail blade x reader #honkai star rail blade x reader smut #hsr blade smut #hsr blade x reader #blade x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #tw yandere #cw yandere #honkai star rail yandere #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #yandere honkai star rail

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2cool4ghoul · 6 months ago

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I can dream, can't I?

Part 2 <3

AO3 link <3

This is my first time uploading anything like this, this dried up old cowboy got me feeling some kind of way! felt like joining the club! I was hoping for this to be multiple parts (featuring pre war Cooper and the ghoul) if anyone is interested in that, let me know!!!!!

word count: 4,349

Summary: You've spent the last few years after escaping your vault roaming the wastelands, doing whatever it is that you need to do to get by. Before the bombs dropped you were a model/singer, which is were you met western movie star Cooper Howard! You two spent the last few months before the bombs dropped falling in love but the bombs put a pin in that. But one day amongst the endless days spent walking, you come across a crazily familiar cowboy....

warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (fem receiving), swearing, minimal violence, if you want a part 2 there will be p in v, restraints, not yet edited.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Whilst the sun proved itself unbearable on most days, today had been particularly blistering.

Traveling through the wasteland alone, on little to no water, with zero companionship had started to take its toll on you and you were sure you were becoming delirious. Your canteen had ran dry a couple miles back, the nearest town was unimaginably far, and you could’ve sworn you’d already passed that mound of dried yellowing grass.

Refusing to admit you were lost, you dug your feet into the sand, one step at a time, panting and wiping the sweat from your brow. It was times like this that made you wish you’d never left your Pip-boy behind in the vault when you made your dramatic exit. What once served as a constant reminder of the vaults would’ve now been your best chance at survival.

You shudder whenever memories of your vault come to mind. The experiments and test you had endured had left enough scars on your body to make you forget what your skin looked like before everything.

Before the bombs had dropped you had been plastered on every other billboard, advertising whatever suspicious product had been shoved in your hands that day. You’d once had dreams of becoming a singer, but that had been stripped away from you in the midst of a messy divorce with none other than the head of RobCo himself. He’d sought to ruin what was left of your dreams in anyway that he could, even if that meant freezing you for god knows how many years and letting men play their cruel games with you in the name of science. These memories were often punctuated with plans of revenge and carefully thought out methods of torture that would yield the most excruciating pain. There was lots of time to think and to plan when wandering the wasteland, so you knew you’d be ready when the time came.

A sadistic grin was wiped from your lips when a distant scream snapped you from your planning. You paused for a moment, frowning whilst trying to figure out from what direction the commotion was coming from. Gunshots were fired, igniting excitement in your belly at the thought of a possible fight, something to break the monotony of walking all day and night long. Once you’d figured out the location of whatever was going on, you paced in its direction, a large dune of sand providing you with a height advantage. The grunts and growls of a creature grew louder, frantic shouts of panic coming from a women.

You could immediately identify the creature by its ungodly noises, however when the scene came into view, you were still impressed with yourself for being correct. A deathclaw had chosen two wanderers as its victims. One appeared to be a vaultie, still in her nearly pristine blue and yellow suit, making you scoff a little. The other, a ghoul dressed in a cowboy get up, his hat having been knocked to the side as he tried his very best to fight of the beast which was barely flinching at the bullets being torn into its skin. The Vaultie had been holding up a tranquilliser gun, which was doing little to deter the deathclaw from sizing up its next meal, managing to swipe her back into the sand with a thud. It then set its eyes on the ghoul, slowly stalking up to them as they hastily reloaded their gun.

After a few moments of deciding on the next course of action, whether to let the laws of nature take their course or to intervene, you decided on intervening. No matter how hard you’d try to forget it, you too had once been a vaultie trying to survive and would’ve begged on your knees for help. Or maybe you had just become soft. Swiftly, you pulled your shotgun from over your shoulder, lifting it and shutting one eye to aim correctly. You squeezed and pulled the trigger, right as it jumped to pounce on the ghoul. Your first bullet lodged itself into the side of the creatures face, and you shot another bullet right between the eyes, leaving it slumped on the floor beside the ghoul, who was now laying on his back, catching his breathe. It took a moment for the two strangers to locate who had saved them as you stood atop the dune, shotgun still in hand, blinking at them with an unreadable expression. Despite saving their lives, you didn’t trust that they wouldn’t turn on you, so you kept your gun in hand, breathing steadily.

“Thank you, stranger! I surely thought that was the end!” The Vaultie beamed up at you, wide eyes showing their relief, the grin plastered across her face, showing too much innocence.

“My pleasure, sugar!” You called back down, your southern accent thicker than it used to be, surprising you even when you spoke. “You two best keep your wits about ya, not everyone out here is as willin’ to lend a helpin’ hand to those in need.”

“We will certainly keep that in mind!” She glanced over at you and then over to the ghoul who was staring at you with wide eyes, his hat in hand, frozen in place.

“Well,” You began making your way down the dune, walking carefully with the gun still in hand due to the Ghoul’s out of sorts reaction to your help, “You wouldn’t happen t’have any water you could share, in exchange fo’ saving your lives?” You tilted your head, diverting your attention to the Vaultie, flashing her one of your signature starlet grins, fluttering your lashes.

“Of course!” She swung her back pack off her shoulder, also choosing to ignore the staring from the silent Ghoul, “I’m not too confident about how clean it is, but it is sure to quench your thirst!” She scrambled for her canteen before passing it in your hands eagerly.

“Thank you, sweet girl.” You tipped your head to her before sipping, coolly, trying not to show how desperately you needed this. Whilst taking your last sip, your eyes got caught in the stare of the Ghoul, feeling him looking you up and down, examining your body and the tattered dress and cowboy boots, taking in every bit of you, eyes still as wide. “What’s tha matter with him?” You pressed as you passed the canteen back, “Looks like he’s seen a ghost.” Teasing, the Vaultie mirrored your confused expression.

“I think I have.” His voice was deep, the southern drawl faintly recognisable. He had finally gotten up to his feet, still standing a safe distance away from you. You took this as an opportunity to stare him down now. His face was marred and textured, his prominent bone structure told you before the effects of radiation took their toll, that he’d been rather handsome. Underneath the many layers of his clothes, a fade blue collar peeked out. You stood in silence, the pressure of his thick glare finally becoming all to much, your hand ghosting over your holster.

“Didn’t your mama teach you it was rude t’stare, old man?” Your tone was now threatening, “are we gonna have a problem?” Licking your lips, you readied yourself, the tension rising as you took a step closer.

“Now, is that anyway to speak to your sherif?” He lowered his voice, so only you could hear him, also taking a step closer, the gap between you so small you could feel his breath fanning over your face. He stood much taller than you, intimidating in his stance, you had to tip your head back and look at him through your eyelashes, furrowing your brows.

“Cooper?...” You stuttered through your own confusion, your head leaning to the side slightly. At this close proximity you were able to properly look into his unchanged eyes. The glowing whiskey colour, twinkling in the hot sun. Immediately recognisable. “Oh, now you’ve got to be fucking kiddin’ me?” You laughed a sinister laugh, as a smug smirk played out over his lips.

Catching him by surprise, you shoved him by both shoulders, sending him stumbling and falling back to the ground. You were quick to straddle his waist, pulling a knife from its holster attached to your thigh. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!” You threatened, he grabbed your wrists in protest, “You fucking knew, you told me I was crazy and you fucking knew all along!” 200 years of grief and longing and anger faltered at your lips, unable to form a full sentence as you both struggled on the floor. The Vaultie had chosen not to intervene, a couple ill attempts at deescalating the situation fell upon death ears.

“Goddammit, darlin!” Cooper managed to hold both your wrist in one hand, pinning them behind your back. He flipped to two of you over, so he was firmly on top of you, the knife dropping from your hand as you fought back tears. You wriggled in his grip, eyes glassy, refusing to meet his own eyes. “You died, you had some awful crash, I went to your funeral.” He hissed at you, “What’re you doin’ here?” You stopped moving, stopping wriggling, the penny finally dropping. You sighed relaxing your body. He took note of this, his body falling next to you tired. You didn’t want to answer his question, sitting upright, deciding to leave the situation.

“Not to intrude, but can someone tell me whats going on?” His companion waved awkwardly, finally taking a step closer to the two of you. You weren’t one to jump to conclusions but you looked back at Cooper and then at the girl, a sly chuckle leaving your lips.

“God, coop, you really are a dog, aren’t ya?” Raising an eyebrow at him, you shook your head, pushing yourself of the ground. “Well, you’ve certainly found yourself shacked up with a real man, miss…?” You spoke sarcastically, picking your knife from the floor, setting back into its sheath, gesturing for her name.

“Oh, my names Lucy-“ She put out her hand to shake yours before she was interrupted.

“Maclean.” It was spoken through gritted teeth, Cooper standing up, staring you down as you kissed your teeth.

“As in Henry Maclean?”

“Yeah, he’s my dad, I apologise in advance for what he did to you.” Lucy’s voice trailed off and she looked down, scuffing her feet.

“We’re looking for him, haven’t seen him have ya?” Cooper was now standing by your side.

“No can’t say I have, I best be off,” His pointed glare looked at you unsure, untrusting of your decision to leave, “now you two have fun!” Turning you back to the both of them, you started walking in the opposite direction, ignoring any further protests, your name being called after you.

There was a slight scratch felt on your back, just below your shoulder. Stopping in your tracks, you reach round to pull out a small syringe. A scoff leaving your lips, the world around you deteriorating around you and melting into darkness. Your knees weakened and you fell directly to the ground, everything turning black just before your head made contact with the sand beneath you.

———————————————————————————————————————————

When you awoke, the room was dark and open, the warm glow of a fire illuminating one corner, casting a flickering orange shadow on the wall. Your head was throbbing, your body aching, you went to lift your arms to rub your eyes. However, you quickly came to realise you had been tied around the waist with rope, arms restrained behind your back, slumped in a chair which was close to falling apart. You writhed against your restraints, huffing before looking up and realising you were not alone in the room.

Cooper was sat opposite the fire, the brim of his hat covering his eyes. “Sleeping’ beauty finally woken up?” You didn’t respond, simply staring him down looking at him past furrowed brows. “didn’t want to tranq ya, sweetheart, but you’re not gettin’ away that easy.” He smirked, leaving his position opposite the fire, slowly wandering over to you, the clatter of his spurs echoing in the empty room. “We got some catching up to do, do we not?” He now stood in front of you, the velvety drawl of his voice sounding better than you remember.

“M’not giving in that easy, Coop.” A smirk fluttered over you lips, blinking up at him through your lashes, sitting back in the chair to pretend at being comfortable.

“No? Of course you wouldn’t,” chuckling, he placed a gloved hand on your chin, forcing you to stare him in the eyes, “you wouldn’t be the lady I remembered so fondly if you did.” There was a chair that he dragged from out of you view, placing it in front of you, sitting down with his legs spread opposite you. “Now, you gonna tell me how you’re still here, lookin’ exactly how I left you, or am I gonna have to do this the hard way?” He spoke quietly, his elbows resting on his knees, leaning in closer to you.

“I’m not telling you shit.” Your chest rose and deflated with every heavy breath you took, his gaze becoming almost as unbearable as the sun earlier that day. He tutted, leaning back, your eyes taking any chance they could to steal a glance between his thighs. He was pretending not to notice but you knew he did. This was the beginning of a sick game. One you definitely wanted to play.

Licking his lips, he looked you up and down, tied up in your chair, squeezing your thighs together. For a moment there was silence, just the crackling of the fire. “What am I gonna do with you?” He muttered to himself as you sat firm in your silence

“I can’t help you, Cooper, I don’t have the information you need.” You spoke matter of fact, and it was partly true. You knew nothing of Macleans whereabouts, you didn’t even know he was still kicking about.

“And what do you know about what information I need, huh?” He pondered, pulling a canteen of water from his coat pocket, your body stiffening at the sight of it. He raised it to his lips, slowly, eyes never leaving yours, even as drops littered down his chin, rolling down his neck. God, you could’ve jumped out of your chair and licked up those drops, drinking the water straight from his mouth. Your jaw fell slightly slack at the sight of it, the thoughts of sucking it up making your hips grind slightly in his direction, begging for any friction. This of course did not go unnoticed, for a sadistic chuckle left his chest, deep and inviting. “My oh my, you always were like a bitch in heat,” his tongue ran across his teeth, “you thirsty, lil’lady?” He gestured the canteen your way, “All you gotta do is ask for it.”

You maintained your burning eye contact, pressing your lips together and nodding. “Gotta use your words,” getting up from his chair, he stalked his way over to you, making you crane your head up, basically panting for him, “go on, girl, ask for it.” He was enjoying this way too much.

“Give me some water.” You almost growled, the canteen so close to your lips, immediately pulled away.

“You need me to teach you some manners, girlie?” He was frowning, standing slightly behind you, just in view, “ask nicely.”

“Can I have some water?” You were restless and if you squeezed your legs shut anymore your legs would be trembling, throbbing with your underwear damp with arousal. A light slap was planted against your cheek, not enough to hurt, but enough to send a shiver down your spine. “I’m not begging for it, Cooper.” Your tone was firm, but not firm enough to be truthful.

“Is that so?” His hand had moved down to your neck, grabbing firmly and tilting your head back so you could see him standing behind you, canteen in one hand. “Then you’re not gettin’ any.”

He kept a hold of you, like a wild animal, whilst he took another gulp of water, droplets dripping from his mouth pattering on your forehead and cheeks. Your mouth fell open, in the hopes of catching some, but you failed, only earning a throaty laugh from Cooper. “Christ, women, Look at you!” You’re cheeks flushed red with shame, humiliated with the mess you were. “You know what you gotta say-“

“Please Cooper Howard, I am begging you, Please!” You whined, close to tears as he raised where his eyebrows had been, watching you finally give in, pleased with himself. “Please.” You repeated breathing heavily. Your mouth dry, tongue running over your lips.

“Open wide, angel.” He mumbled, grip on your neck loosening ever so slightly. He tipped the contents into your mouth, water had never tasted so good, you let out relieved moans as you were replenished, not caring for the water that was spilling down your chest, falling between your breasts.

Whilst you took a moment to release a sigh of relief, the hand around your neck began traveling down, causing the tension to immediately rise back up. “That wa’nt so hard was it?” The depth of his voice and his accent leaving you quivering. His hand found its way to your breast, cupping and squeezing it, your back arching to his touch. He had been the last man to touch you like this, all those 200 years ago, and you’d dreamt of it ever since. You had never imagined you’d be lucky enough to experience it again. Yet, just as quick as his touch was on you, it left. You furrowed you brows, turning to try and meet his gaze with a pout, yet he was walking back out in front of you. Your bottom lip was tugged between your teeth as he had a sly grin on his lips. If your lips weren’t saying it, your big eyes were pleading with him to give you something else. Painfully slowly, he dropped to his knees in front of you, and your body involuntarily scooted to the edge of the seat, embarrassed by your own eagerness.

Despite him still being the man you’d once known somewhere in there, he’d been changed undoubtedly by his years of wandering. You shouldn’t be attracted to him anymore in the way you were. It was shameful of you to be this eager and will for him. Begging for any slight touch. Begging for a ghoul to give you something for your aching cunt to squeeze around.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and spread those legs of yours, show me what I been dreamin’ ‘bout?” Dripping with lust, he ordered whilst pushing your dress up around your waist. Doing as you were told, you opening your legs, being slightly shy. “No use being shy now, girl, open ‘em wide for this o’cowboy.” His annoyance only spurred you on, spreading them as wide as you could in the chair. “Goddamn,” He hissed, running his bare finger tips over your clothed arousal, the material slick and wet, “Your pretty lil’ pussy, practically dripping for me,” he groaned while pulling the fabric to one side, eyes taking in the sight of you panting, mouth wide, spreading your legs like a good girl, “all over a drop o’water?” He had a smirk on his new wet lips, that you just wanted to slap off. You thought for a moment of clenching your thighs around his head and neck and choking him out, yet you figured he’d enjoy that too much for it to be a form of punishment.

When his mouth kissed against your inner thighs, you whispered a gasp, thighs finally trembling giving in to showing him how desperate you were for him. He was being cruel, teasing you and testing your limits. He refused to give into what you wanted without hearing you beg for it once more, taking immense pleasure in seeing you quivering and leaning into his slightest touch. His lips ghosted over where you needed him most, your eyes growing glassy, your stomach burning with desire, body aching from the tension you so needed releasing.

“Oh god, Cooper please, I need you so much, I’m achin’, it hurts, I need you.” Your words came out quickly, breathlessly, surprising the two of you, wiggling against the restraints, wishing to just grab his head and shove it into your grinding heat. He glanced up at you for moment, “please, I cant take this anymore.” You shook your head. “I’ll tell you anythin’ you want, please, just… just give me something.” A blanketed layer of sweat had ran over your body, glistening in the dimming glow of the unattended fire.

“You gon’ be a good girl f’me?” He looked at you sternly, his breath fanning over where you needed him most.

“I’ll be so damn good, I promise, I’ll do anything you want me to.” Swallowing down whatever was left of your pride, you scooted even closer to him and he hummed closing his eyes for a moment.

“I could listen to you beggin’ f’me all day.” He finally gave in.

His tongue lapped against you, a moan finally escaping you, He’d taken your thighs and rested them over his shoulders, full delving into you. His tongue dipped into you and you mewled. You so desperately wanted to touch him, pull him closer. The tension boiling within you was dangerously close to spilling over, embarrassingly fast. “God,” his voice vibrated against you, “You taste even sweeter than I remember, my sweet sweet girl.” He was in complete bliss, giving into a self indulgent spree of groans, sucking you in trying to taste as much as possible. Your thighs knock off his hat, yet neither go you seem to notice. He sucked at your clit, finding the sweet spot that he always knew so well, causing you to writhe and curse his name.

“Oh, Cooper, I’m gonna… oh please!” His hands dug into your thighs, leaving red marks that would definitely leave a bruise in their wake. He maintained his actions, until one hand reach round, finger tip tapping your clit whilst his tongue dug into you, readying himself to taste you as you came undone.

“You gon’ cum for me, darlin?” He cooed.

This was enough to set you over the edge, “Oh my god, fuck!” You rocked forward, like a women possessed, as you clenched and squeezed shaking and shivering for him. Gulping for air, you were seeing stars, “There you go, attagirl.” He groaned, working you through you orgasm as the tension in your body released, your limbs relaxing. You were whimpering, expecting to feel his presence leaving you. However he remained, the pace of his fingers on your clit was fastening. Your back straightened, wishing you could relish in the release for longer before he started again. “I need a moment.” You panted and he looked up at you, pulling his face away, the sheen of his orgasm on his lips.

“No can do, sweetheart,” shaking his head, knelt in front of you, “I’m not finished with you yet.” Your eyes widened, gulping for air, mouth dry again.

The finger was gone from your clit, pushing its way inside you as you threw your head back welcoming its entrance. “Besides, looks like youre takin’ it just fine to me.” His cocky voice was barely audible over the moans as he rutted his finger into you. He forced another digit in, slowly testing you with the feeling of pulling them all the way out and then all the way in again, knuckle deep in your cunt. You ground your hips against his fingers, eyes rolling back into your head, “God, look at you, fucking yourself on my fingers, you needy lil girl.” He tutted at you, dumbfounded by your willingness.

He curved his fingers, grazing against the spot which made you arch your back, “right there, sweetheart?” There was a gentleness in his voice, looking up at you as you clenched all your muscles against the rope, tied way to well for you to break free.

“Mmhmm, right there, cowboy.” You forced your words out, struggling to cope with the pleasure rushing through your body. Eyes squeezed shut, clenching around his fingers, fighting another orgasm with all your might, trying not to give in so easily this time. “I want you so bad.” You groaned and he went slightly rigid.

“Lets not move too fast now.” His jaw clenching, his own restrained demeanour threatening to break and snap. His quickened his pace with his fingers, trying to distract himself from the aching bulge of his own. “Don’t hold out on me, princess, I can feel how close you are, the way you squeezing round these fingers, come for me one more time.” He growled it, thrusting his hips into nothing, watching the way you were unraveling and moaning his name. He hadn’t expected you to be so eager, the rough exterior very different to the man you’d fallen in love with.

The ever-growing tension was released once more, heart pounding in your chest, eyes rolling back until they’re were squeezed shut, cursing profanities and taking the lords name in vain, letting out unholy noises, rope beginning to rub the skin writhing beneath it raw. “Oh Cooper Howard, don’t stop.” You continued rolling against him, the use of his full name setting his heart alight. The waves of pleasure didn’t seem to stop, his fingers riding out the high for you, body shaking with tears rolling down your cheeks. Your body was truly truly spent. You had nothing left to give except for a lazy half lidded gaze at coop who was still kneeling opposite you, proud of himself that after all this time he was still able to leave you a dripping mess, trembling for him, moaning his name. Silence filled the room, your body slumped in the chair, staring down at him. You forced a lazy smile.

“What do ya wanna know?"

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #walton goggins #Cooper Howard Smut #cooper howard #the ghoul #Walton goggins smut #smut #walton ghoulgins #x reader

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thelov3lybookworm · 3 months ago

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Gone Through Enough (part 1)

Day 1: Bargains

Summary: she was not here for him

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1456

A/n: eeeeeeeeee im so excited for @erisweekofficial 🥹🥳🥳🥳

this is the part one of this series, soooo

✨ENJOYYY ❣️✨

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Spoons scraped at expensive ceramic plates. Exotic, fragrant dishes covered every inch of her plate, but no matter how much her stomach clenched, begging for food, Y/n could not bring herself to truly eat.

Quiet, mindless chatter surrounded Y/n as she tried her best to not glower back at the fireheaded heir across from her. As each moment passed, it became harder to ignore the heat of his gaze on her.

"You know, I think Lord Greengrass is very handsome. He also has quite a large group of soldiers with him. Do you think he’s one of the richer ones?"

Her gaze drifted, and Y/n nodded absently, already forgetting the question she was asked. Y/n wasn’t even listening, really, to her sister who rambled on about the latest lord that caught her fancy.

Steam wafted from the roasted hunt the lords and soldiers had brought back that evening set at the centre of the long mahogany table. As if drawn by some magnetic force, her eyes met his hard, liquor coloured ones.

"Y/n? Are you listening?"

Y/n blinked, nodding as she turned her gaze back to her sister.

But she could not shake the feeling that he still stared at her.

The high lord stood then, drawing the gaze of all the nobility.

He began speaking, his words bouncing off of the high ceilings, amplified by his magic. It enraptured everyone. Or at least people who wanted to be in the high lord’s good graces listened.

Not Y/n though. She was here for a purpose, and so were her parents.

Soon enough, the orchestra started playing again, and people who did not want to dance gathered around the ballroom floor, watching and chatting. Y/n made her way through them, catching snippets of conversations and then forgetting them the next moment till she found her parents swaying in the corner, whispering in each other’s ears.

She adored times like these, because it showed her how in love they were.

She moved closer, but before she could say anything to them, she was yanked to a stop by a rough hand.

She turned to glare at the person, only to have her blood run cold.

The high lord.

"Your highness."

She hastily dropped into a curtsy, her eyes lowered in deference. He simply grunted in answer, letting the space between them become awkward before speaking.

"Your father was telling me you are a great dancer."

She stilled, lifting her eyes to meet the cruel, cold ones of Beron.

"Yes, your highness."

He grabbed her hand then. "Dance with me."

It sounded only slightly like a question, but Y/n knew it was an order. She followed him to the dance floor, her gaze shifting to the encouraging grey of her father.

He nodded, pulling Y/n’s mother closer.

It confused the young lady. They had not discussed it with her before, so why were they acting like this was the plan all along?

Nevertheless, as the music started up again, Y/n let herself go, her conscious only focused on going through the steps of her dance instead of the way the high lord’s hand sat too close to her hip, the way he stared at her like he wanted to devour her, like he wanted to keep her forever.

Not as a companion, but a trophy.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

As soon as the last few notes of the violin faded into the thick air, Y/n stepped away from the high lord, whose gaze burned into Y/n’s skin. She bent at the waist, her leg sweeping behind in a deep curtsy before she fled, unable to breathe in the stuffy ballroom a minute longer.

She ran. Ran like she was a bunny trying to outrun a wolf under the curtain of looming trees. Outside, through the beautifully constructed windows, she could see a blanket of stars twinkling over the cover of night, the smell of oak and maple mixing with the scent of fire and sweet honey. The pleasantness of outside invited happy insects that buzzed and sang between the tall grass that led to the forest, the atmosphere so serene but so at odds with the turmoil inside Y/n.

She ran up flights of stairs, flew past startled lower fae trying to hide before she could see them. But she paid them no heed as she hurtled towards the sculpted wooden door she was sure was assigned to her family when they had arrived just a few hours after dawn.

Hurrying to the bath chamber, she bent over the bowl in the corner, hurling up her guts without a care for how inappropriate it would have looked when she ran away from the high lord.

She did not care as she removed her dress, shoving and shimmying out of the offending material as she turned, staring at herself in the mirror.

She looked like she had been through hell, and that was putting it nicely as she regarded her unruly hair, her blotched face and the thin slip she stood in, panting.

She continued staring for a moment before she grabbed the closest jug of magically warmed water and doused her body in it, uncaring that she was not standing in the bathtub.

The water flowed in rivulets down her body as she set the jug aside, only then taking a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

As she took a step away and gathered her gown in her arms, disgusted even by its sight, the door to the chambers clicked open.

She froze, eyes wide.

The festivities were nowhere near finished, and Y/n hoped it was her mother, because now that she took a better look at the bathing chamber, she realised one thing.

This was not the chamber assigned to the Augustenburgs, and Y/n was fucked.

She remained still, hoping whoever it was would leave, or-

The door opened, revealing the scowling heir apparent.

Bastard.

Y/n huffed at his unwavering glare, deciding to sidestep him into the room, still dripping water from her unbound hair.

His hand wrapped around her forearm before she could go far, pushing her into the nearest wall, the impact barely knocking the breath out of her despite the hatred burning his gaze.

"Why are you here?"

It was a mumbled question, directly fanning over Y/n’s ear.

She refused to move to accommodate him.

Instead, she turned her head closer to his, whispering the answer over the skin of his neck.

"You should ask yourself that."

To others, it would have seemed like he was asking why she was in his chambers.

He wasn’t.

"Why? You’ve got nothing to say?"

She glared at the wall opposite, wondering if she should even dignify him with an answer.

He pulled away a little, his eyes burning into her, and she sneered at him. "You know why we’re here-"

His head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he glanced at the door.

And then, he buried his face in her neck, placing kisses down the column of skin till her shoulders. It shocked her so much that she stilled, trying to understand what he was trying to do, but before she could eventually push him away, the door creaked open.

Eris lifted his head, turning to their visitor as he shoved Y/n’s head into his shoulder.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to see where you had run off to. Looks like you’ve got yourself a whore."

Y/n could hear the smirk in the male’s voice. It riled her up, and she was just about to lift her head to give him a piece of her mind when Eris snarled, and then the door slammed shut.

Eris’s grip left Y/n’s hair and he stepped back, his chest heaving. His head hung low, eyes stuck on the floor. He stayed there for a few moments, as if gathering his thoughts, then he began unbuttoning his jacket, shoving it into Y/n’s hands.

"Get out."

He choked out, his voice strangely strangled. Y/n quickly pulled the jacket over her, the fact that she was in an almost see through slip registering in the back of her mind. But she could not bring herself to care as she gathered the heavy ball gown in her arms, making a run for her room before another one of Eris’s brothers decided to come check up on the heir apparent.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Eris’s pov.

She wasn’t back for him.

She wasn’t.

She was only here because he could offer her family a bargain.

She probably didn’t even want to be here, but her parents had dragged her back.

She was here only for that bargain.

Not him.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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candycandy00 · 1 year ago

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The Offering - A Sukuna x Reader Fic Part 1

Once upon a time, Sukuna was a human man, albeit a monstrously cruel and powerful one. Villages across the land worshipped him as a living deity. One such village holds a festival for seven nights in his honor every year, and on each night they make generous offerings to him, including women who are never seen again. On the fifth night, you are selected to be the offering.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Any feedback whatsoever is greatly loved! If you’d like to be tagged when I post another part, comment to let me know. You must have your age in your bio or pinned post and be 18+ to be tagged.

Smut. 18+. Sukuna is a human (my theory is that he got his four-armed body by modifying himself with jujutsu fuckery later in life). Dubcon. Mentions of rape that happened “off screen”. Very rough sex. Blood. Sukuna just generally being a sadistic monster. F!Reader.

Your forehead touched the ground, your entire body bent to bow as low as possible as the honored guest of the festival passed by. You didn’t dare look up at him. You’d heard stories of villagers being instantly beheaded by invisible blades for such an offense.

Even when he was gone, climbing up the steps to the shrine your people had built for him several years ago, you kept your head pressed to the ground. There you and all the other villagers remained until someone announced that Lord Sukuna, your village’s living deity, had gone inside the shrine.

Every year your village held a festival in Lord Sukuna’s honor. It was a week long affair, and each night generous offerings were left at the shrine’s doors for him to partake of. Sumptuous fruits, tender cooked meats, fragrant oils, delicate trinkets made of precious metals, sake of various types, and of course, beautiful women.

Lord Sukuna remained inside the shrine for the entire seven days and nights, then left until the next year, when the process began again. The women offered to him were never seen again.

On the fifth day, you were helping your mother prepare a basket of fruit for an offering. There were juicy pomegranates, glossy apples, and ripe peaches. They smelled heavenly, and you smiled as you arranged them to look as beautiful as possible.

A sudden voice at the entrance to your home caught your attention, a man speaking to your father. “Please try to stay calm,” the man was saying, “but your daughter has been selected to be tonight’s offering.”

Your mother wailed beside you, clutching you in her arms as if she could keep you from being taken. Your father turned to look at you with an anguished expression. You yourself simply felt numb. A part of you knew this could happen. You were of age, unmarried, and had been told you were pleasing to look at. It was only a matter of time, really.

So you stood in your home, your sobbing mother still holding you, as three shrine maidens walked in. They were quiet, older women dressed in white robes with downcast faces. They bowed to your parents, as if thanking them for their involuntary sacrifice, then took you by the hands. One of them helped your father pry your mother’s arms away from you as the other two led you outside. You didn’t even have time to say goodbye to your parents.

You went with the shrine maidens willingly. To struggle or resist would mean death for you and your family, and then another girl would be in your place, being pulled out of her home while her parents cried. It would happen to someone regardless tomorrow night, but at least this would spare one family the misery.

The shrine maidens took you to a small temple that sat at the base of Sukuna’s shrine. There they removed your simple garments and had you step into a large, warm bath. Floating in the water were near countless cherry blossoms, giving the entire room a sweet fragrance. You looked at the pretty pink flowers and, upon realizing this was the last time you would see them, began to cry.

One of the women came closer and rubbed your shoulder in a comforting manner. You looked up at her in surprise. The shrine maidens were normally quite stoic, keeping to themselves, maintaining Sukuna’s shrine between festivals, and helping to prepare offerings and see to the Lord’s needs while he was there. From your understanding, they were the only people besides the village elders who were allowed to have any contact with Lord Sukuna at all.

“Try to keep your head down,” the shrine maiden whispered, “and don’t look at Lord Sukuna until he tells you to. In fact, don’t do anything until he tells you to. Try to please him in whatever way he asks.”

You wiped your tears with your hands and looked at her sadly. “Does it even matter? Has any woman pleased him enough to survive?”

The shrine maiden’s grip on your shoulder became slightly more firm. “It does matter! If you please him, he might give you a quick death. We’ve been forced to clean up the remains of many women who displeased him. Believe me, you don’t want to be among their number. There are far worse fates than being beheaded.”

You shivered at her warning, but decided on the spot to follow her advice. Although the shrine maidens had remained silent about what happened to the other offered women, only confirming their deaths, rumors had drifted among the village for years. Stories of women being skinned alive, having their eyes ripped out of their sockets, having every bone in their bodies broken and their mangled limbs twisted into nightmarish shapes. You’d always hoped they were merely stories made up by the more morbidly curious villagers.

You composed yourself and then asked the older woman a question. “What is he like?”

The woman glanced back at the other shrine maidens who were preparing a garment for you to wear, then said in a low voice, “Lord Sukuna is cruel. He has no mercy for anyone. He is a monster.”

You felt your heart sink. You would be taken by this man tonight, and you’d never even laid eyes upon him.

When the bath was finished, you stepped out and were dried off by the women. They then dressed you in an extremely thin white robe. It was so thin that you were certain anyone could see right through it, making you feel embarrassed at the thought of walking into the shrine this way. Then you reminded yourself that he would probably rip it from your body anyway.

They lightly painted your face and combed out your hair, leaving it unadorned. Then they opened the doors and motioned for you to follow.

As you climbed the steps to the shrine, the shrine maiden who had spoken to you before gave you instructions.

“When you enter, keep your eyes down toward the floor. Lord Sukuna will be seated on a dais before you, but you must not look up at him until you are given permission. Once you reach the dais, bow down as low as possible and remain that way until commanded otherwise.”

Your heart was pounding as you neared the end of the stone steps, and the end of your life. You stopped in front of the doors and took several deep breaths to try and steady yourself, then you lowered your gaze to the space in front of your bare feet as the women opened the shrine.

You could feel his eyes upon you from the moment you stepped inside. The shrine maidens did not accompany you, and closed the doors behind you, leaving you to your fate. You slowly walked forward, keeping your eyes down, feeling a terrifying sense of pressure emanating from the dais that was supposed to be in front of you.

The walk toward the dais was nerve wracking. You didn’t know how close or far it was, and you felt naked in the sheer robe, your cheeks no doubt burning red at the thought of this man staring at you.

When you saw the edge of the dais come into view, you stopped and immediately knelt down, pressing your face to the floor as you always did with the other villagers every year. Then you waited.

For several minutes, you heard nothing. No breathing, no movement. Then a smooth, deep voice said, “You may look up now.”

You shuddered, then worked up the courage to raise your head slightly while maintaining a posture of submission. When you did, your vision was suddenly full of the man your village worshipped, the dreaded monster called Sukuna.

He was a man, not a beast, and you were shocked by how handsome he was. He sat not on his chair but across it, one leg drawn up at his side and the other hanging down, in a surprisingly casual pose. He wore white robes, the front open to his waist to reveal a muscular torso that drew your eye.

His face was lined with strange tattoos, and in his eyes there was an intensity that nearly took your breath away. You remained perfectly still even as your heart thundered in your chest. You didn’t know what was happening, why you suddenly felt drawn to this man. You could feel the danger, you had the sense that he would rip you to shreds without a second thought, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Something about the terror he provoked also excited you. With a spike of alarm, you realized you wanted to touch him.

When he spoke again, his voice had a silky texture that made you feel weak.

“There are three types of women who end up here,” he began, looking down at you as if you were an insect he was about to stomp on. “There are those foolish enough to think they can seduce me. They feign love, and I let them live in their delusions, right up until I take them to my bed. The delusions shatter pretty quickly then.”

His lips curved up into a fiendish smirk, and you were left wondering what terrible things he did to those women in his bed.

“Then there are the pathetic ones who cry and beg for mercy from the start” he went on. “Unfortunately this is the most common type. I have my way with them and then utterly destroy them. It’s what they deserve for boring me.”

Were these the women who displeased him? The ones who received the most brutal deaths? The cruelty of it stunned you, that the weakest and most frightened women were given the most horrific fates.

“The last type is my favorite,” he said with a haunting grin, “the ones who fight and scream and claw. These provide me with the most amusement, but sadly are the most rare. It’s hilarious, you see, to watch them slowly realize they never had a chance in the first place. I enjoy breaking their bodies and their spirits. And to reward them for the entertainment, I have them on my plate after having them in my bed.”

Your eyes widened as his words sank in. Plate? Meaning he ate them? He kept grinning, perhaps guessing what you were thinking. You felt a wave of nausea hit your stomach, but you kept your breakfast from coming back up through sheer force of will.

“I wonder what type you are,” he said, his red eyes boring into you, his unusually sharp teeth bared in his smile. “Try not to disappoint me.”

He stood up then, and his height was imposing, even more so because you were still kneeling on the floor.

You kept your expression blank, but your mind was racing. What type were you? None of the three he described matched how you felt. You had initially resigned yourself to your fate, and had planned to simply be quiet and obedient until he tired of you and killed you. But now that you were in his overwhelming presence, you couldn’t suppress the thrill you felt, the animal-like attraction to this brutal yet beautiful man.

The rational part of your brain was filled with terror and dread. Lord Sukuna was going to do indescribably awful things to you this night, then murder you and discard you as if you were nothing. But a bizarre little piece of your brain, one you’d never realized was there before now, was growing more excited by the moment.

“Stand,” he commanded, and you hurriedly got to your feet. You felt your face burning again when his eyes roamed over your barely concealed body. He turned and walked toward the back of the shrine, looking over his shoulder at you to say, “Follow.”

You obeyed, walking after him, careful to remain several steps behind. You soon came to a room marked off by sheer curtains, which Lord Sukuna pulled back to reveal the most lavish, ornate bed you had ever seen. Unlike the thin futon you were used to, this bed was thick and elevated off the floor. There were silk pillows and a satin-lined blanket, and the fabrics had apparently been perfumed, as they carried a heady, floral scent.

When Sukuna reached the bed, he stood beside it and turned to face you. “Remove your robe,” he said in his rich voice.

You nearly buckled right then and there. The fear and shame were mixing with arousal, and you thought you might collapse. With shaking fingers, you untied the thin sash around your waist. Then, with Sukuna watching intently, you opened the robe and slipped it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

You’d never been bare in front of a man before, and it felt as if your skin burned wherever his gaze fell as his eyes moved up and down your form.

He stepped closer and looked down at you, into your eyes. Did he see the turmoil inside you? The raging war between horror and lust?

His hands fell upon your trembling shoulders, and his touch felt electric. Finally, his hands on your skin! But then he jerked your body around so that you faced away from him, and those hands roughly explored your exposed flesh. One of them squeezed your right breast while the other moved down to grope between your legs. You gasped at the sensations, at being touched in this way for the first time, at the realization that you didn’t hate it even though his touch was harsh.

One of his fingers slipped into your folds, and your breath hitched in your throat as he grazed over a particularly sensitive spot. You felt him pause, both hands going still, and then he suddenly turned you back around to face him. He seemed to study your face for a moment, and then a smirk spread across his features.

All at once you were thrown onto the bed, your little cry of surprise ignored as Lord Sukuna slowly climbed on top of you. His hands were upon you again, grabbing and kneading the soft, plush areas of your body, his grip strong and bruising. He moved down, then pushed your knees up toward your chest, opening your thighs obscenely wide apart.

There was a strange look in his eyes as he gazed down at your most private place, and again that smirk. He bent down, his face getting so close to your body that you could feel his breath. You couldn’t help blushing at the closeness, and then you felt something warm and wet glide up your slit. When you looked down, his tongue was extended from his mouth, a string of clear fluid attaching it to your body.

A shudder rippled through you as he dove back in, this time pressing his tongue in between the folds of flesh to lick your swollen and sensitive clit. “Ah… ahh!” The small quick moans escaped your lips before you could stop them, and you felt a stab of fear when Sukuna looked up at your face. You were told not to do anything without his permission, so you had refrained from speaking. You didn’t want to displease him in any way, so you were trying to be completely silent. But when his tongue returned to your clit, circling it and then pressing into the top corner, even more moans came out.

Lord Sukuna continued until your body stiffened, your hands gripping the silken sheets as pleasure shot through you and one last, long moan broke free. He pulled away from you and looked down, watching you pant as you started to drop your tired legs back down. He grabbed them before they could straighten and touch the bed, pressing your knees back up.

You looked at him just as he opened his own robe, revealing the same pattern of black tattoos all over his body. It was a strangely alluring sight, but your eyes were quickly drawn to the very large and imposing organ between his legs. It stood stiff and ready, and you knew what was about to happen.

Sukuna looked you in the eyes as he shoved himself inside you, so deep and so hard that you could only describe the motion as violent. He didn’t give you even a moment to adjust before he was thrusting viciously into you. It hurt, and even as naive as you were, you understood that he wanted it to hurt. He was clearly being as rough as he possibly could without literally tearing you apart, and tears stung your eyes as you bit back a scream, using one hand to cover your own mouth.

Sukuna pulled your hand away from your face, then leaned down close and spoke into your ear, a whisper that that sent shivers through you despite the pain you were in, “Cry for me. I’ll allow it. Let me hear your voice.”

Hearing that, you let out a cry of pain before beginning to sob. You looked up him with wet eyes and found him grinning, enjoying your suffering. He truly was a monstrous man. His motions only became rougher, his hands gripping your thighs so hard you thought he might crush them.

“Please… L-lord Sukuna…” you managed to cry out.

“Please what?” Again, that voice in your ear, that self-satisfied smile while watching you cry.

“I-I don’t… I don’t know…” You didn’t know what you wanted. Did you want him to stop? You wanted the pain to end, but you didn’t want him to climb off you.

“Really? Then I won’t let up.”

Unbelievably, he was thrusting even harder, even deeper. When you could no longer bear it, your hands that had been clenched at your sides flew up to wrap around his neck. He would probably kill you for touching him without permission, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Clutching him in your arms somehow made the agony between your legs subside just a little.

If he was angered by your touch, he didn’t show it. Instead, he laughed as if he were amused by your desperation.

Finally, when you were nearly at the limit of what you could withstand, you felt Sukuna’s cock twitch, his body go tense, and then warm, sticky fluid shoot inside you. Your arms slipped down from his neck as he pulled out of you and let your sore legs fall to the bed. Somewhere in your dazed mind you knew this was the end. He’d had his fun with you and now he would kill you, just like all the others. You saw him stand up from the bed and wrap his robe around himself, but before he could even turn around, you passed out.

*****

Sukuna looked down at the offering, feeling slightly annoyed that she had given out so quickly. She had held out better than most, however.

Despite what he’d told her earlier, over half the women offered to him never even made it to his bed. They were crying too loudly or shoving their fake affection in his face or even having the gall to try to attack him. They ended up as chunks of meat in front of the dais.

But this girl had been frustratingly blank and silent. He’d considered beheading her, but on a whim had decided to force a reaction out of her, thinking she could provide some entertainment. The reaction he got was not what he’d expected.

Sukuna was fully capable of making a woman become aroused, but it was always after applying plenty of stimulation to certain areas, not because he wanted to pleasure them, but because fucking them felt better for him when they were wet. This girl, however, was practically dripping from the moment he first touched her. And when he’d looked at her face, he’d seen reddened cheeks and lusty, glazed eyes. He also saw fear, and that mixture was too delicious to waste.

Those sounds she’d made, from the little hitching breaths to the soft moans she’d struggled to hold back, to the screams and cries of pain, had all been irresistible. He wanted to hear more of them.

He stood looming over the bed, watching the growing red stain beneath her naked, still open thighs, and wondered what he should do with her. He could kill her right then and there as she slept, but that would be boring. Much better to listen to her sweet death cries.

He reached up and absently touched the back of his neck. He could still feel her weak arms clinging to him. He stared down at the bruised and bleeding girl in his bed, at her sleeping tear-streaked face, and came to a decision.

He summoned one of the shrine maidens, who entered the room with her eyes on the floor. She pointedly avoided looking toward the bed, probably afraid of what she would see.

“Inform the village I won’t be needing a woman tomorrow night,” Sukuna told her. “I’m not finished with this one yet.”

The shrine maiden’s face lifted very slightly, the shock so much that she nearly forgot her manners. She quickly bowed again and said, “Yes, Lord Sukuna,” before hurrying out of the room.

He sat down on the bed, then sighed before pulling a thin silken sheet up and draping it over the offering’s body.

“Sleep while you can,” he murmured, a wicked grin returning to his face. “Tomorrow you’ll be entertaining me again.”

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #sukuna x you #x reader

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melancholicstation · 1 month ago

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Take Me Out To The Ball Game — john f. kennedy

taglist: @remotewatch @bloxholden35 @kennediva @h-l-vlovesvintage @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @absurdlyvintage @chemicalw0rld @fortheloveofjos @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro @tsloverr-13

authors note: i use jfk's nickname "jack" in this if you're confused!

summary: you’re self-imposed pity party after your failed romance with a left-end jack kennedy is interrupted when you dragged along by your girlfriends to a football game held at the harvard crimson. you were comfortable going as you were assured that jack had gotten sick with strep days prior. what you didn’t know, however, was that as you’re eyes glaze over the field a certain insufferable blue-eyed boy would be quick to meet your gaze…

warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, sleazy man, public sex at a baseball field, bit of degradation but not too much.

words: 2808

Now you wouldn't regard yourself as the kind of woman to lose herself in mindless rumination over a failed collegiate love, but looking down at yourself from a birds-eye perspective: you just may have been kidding yourself.

To put it plainly you're a wreck. Emotionally strictly. One disposition you count your lucky stars for is the ardent dedication that you carry within yourself to the performance of femininity. And by god was it a performance, entirely unnatural to you.

This love stupor you've been in for 8 to 9 business days simply needed to end, and your new attitude started with you discarding the days-old clothes you donned while rotting away in your poster board twin-size bed. Deny as you have many times to yourself, you didn't wear these clothes out of a slobbish penchant for convenience or pure happenstance, you wore them because they smelled of him: feeling that if you wore something that had once touched his skin that you too could still inhabit the body of the boy who you had lost. Still touch what had so cruelly been ripped away from you from the very boy himself. What a cruel boy he'd morphed into these past few days.

You rummaged through the large chest of drawers that your mother just insisted you keep for "functionality" knowing full well her hatred of the object: a dreadful eyesore of a gift from your grandmother on your father's side. You decided upon a poplin sleeveless dress tastefully skimming the fleshy part of your upper thigh. You move ghostly, in a pathetic slump-like state towards your vanity: a treasure in dorm-living, and start to unpack your beauty packing cubes: one labelled "hair", one labelled "skin", and one labelled "make-up" in thick bolded typewriter font. Some time passed and before you knew it you were applying your last coat of sérum teinté N°1 when you were rudely interrupted by a barrage of knocking and girlish condescending shouts from the other side of your dorm door.

You roll your eyes, despite being unconsciously excited to experience the delightful distraction of girlhood in the form of your girlfriends. As soon as you unlock the door, each of your girlfriends bound through the door every one of pawing at you with a look of pity in their eyes. "Oh come on don't look at me like that I'm not dead yet: I can smell the sympathy on all of you"

Betty, a friend who had eagerly sought you out during orientation, and attached herself to you, not unlike a succubus escapertaly exclaimed "Well you don't look far from death sweetheart why do you think we made the trouble to come up five flights of stairs looking for you? You are a case of upmost urgency!"

"Well I--" you're excuses are cut short when Betty's partner in crime: Alana pipes up, a brown-haired girl who stood at maximum 5 foot 4, "Oh come on y/n!, you think we'd show up if you weren't in dire straights. Take a look at my shoes--" She physically moves your hand to feel the leather glide over your fingertips "--do you really think I'd risk dirtying the soles of brand new Dior slingbacks on dormitory stairwells if we weren't really concerned about you?"

"I suppose you may be right. It's downright dreadful what's he's done to me. Before him I felt I was made for great, I had hopes for the future. But now all I sincerely believe that my being, my flesh and blood was created to love him, to tend to him. And I know it isn't right or near darn healthy to feel or think this way but dammit I do--and it's proving damn near impossible to shake."

By the end of your monologue your hands had begun to shake and your face to become an odd shade of green, nearly immediately the hands of your two friends came to encompass you whole. You knew they didn't understand, couldn't comprehend the stupor he had placed on you, but they cared enough to listen and that was even for now.

After a well-needed clean up job by your friends, who more closely resembled catholic saints at this point, of your dormitory littered with stained coffee mugs, pomegranates seeds on the windowsill, and a plate of un-touched steak fries from the cafeteria.

It was during this time that you'd been asked--no informed that you and them would attend the four o'clock baseball game at the Harvard crimson. A grim place for even people in the highest of spirits: a setting marked by the unmistakable musk of fake grass, cheap mulled beer, and an overflow of appalling showcases of testosterone.

"And you're sure he's not going to be there. Not even in a twenty foot radius?"

"Who Jack? God no he told coach that he had strep throat. Probably rotting away in bed as we speak. Serves him right for what he's done to such an innocent like you." Betty says. You quietly scoff at "innocent girl" if only they knew what perverted, sickening acts you had done with jack, simply in the last fews months: on desks, on lampposts, in the backs of cars, simply anywhere and everywhere that had no present inhabitants that you two could surmise.

"Now that that silly thought is out of your head you need to get into that bedroom and find an nice looking dress, just because you feel awful doesn't give you the right to look it" Alana says in a tone so backhanded it could only come from a motherly kind of love.

You reluctantly do what she says, with a slight pep in your step, despite the pitfalls of the crimson sport arenas you were always a fan of anywhere you could smoke and drink at 2:00 pm and not look like a total degenerate slob.

You take a quick admiring glance at the 18th century armoire, the one prized possession you had forcibly removed from your childhood bedroom in New Hampshire along with you for the move much to your mother's dismay, and survey your options of dress. You zero in on a particular pair of field shorts which are clearly not yours but Jacks.

*flashback*

"When are you gonna change for the date?" You say to jack with applying your about tenth coat of rouge onto your lips, checks, and eyelids. "Whadda you mean sweetheart? I am dressed" Jack teases kissing his way up your neck making eye contact with his reflection. How vain.

You survey him from top to bottom, the top half of him is lacklustre but workable: a cream pullover with the collar of his white collared shirt peeping out every so slightly. But the bottom half is down-right offensive: tennis socks paired with field shorts so tight that there's a pronounced bulge noticeable to the naked eye. "Oh Jack you've gotta change. Don't you know we're going out with my friends--who trust me will not find it as comical as your friends would. I feel like it's staring right at me."

"Do you wanna' kneel down and take them right off, then they can really stare right at you honey?" Jack chuckles, always ready for a sexual escape even on an uneventful Wednesday evening. His sexual drive was concerning at best and rotted to the core at worst. But despite this, you too seemed to be afflicted by the same kind of constant desire around the presence of Jack. So you did as you were told, kneeled and started slipping of his boxers with little complaint and complete submission.

*end of flashback*

You're released from your temporary haze, as a knock comes at your bedroom door: it's Betty "Y/n we'll be waiting outside for you in the courtyard. Don't be more than 10 minutes I really don't want to wait in those retched lines with those retched Harvard boys."

You reply to her with an affirmation signally that you'll be out in a minute and turn quickly back to your armoire. As undergarments you went for the staples: a silk georgette camisole, and slip skirt. Quickly you find a wool dress cut above the knee in a pattern reminiscent of a kaleidoscope, detailed with mother of pearl buttons trading from your neck all the way down to your mid-behind (authors note: for imaginative purposes imagine those iconic Alexander McQueen dresses but make it 1930s era). You slip on a pair of slightly beaten up heeled oxfords and grab your favourite nappa leather bag. You glide out of your dormitory, drift down the stairwell with the temperament of a girl who desperately needs to spend some time with her beloved friends.

As your trio enters the stadium you tell Alana and Betty to go up and gather the greasy yet delightful treats and drinks while you go find each of your seats in the bustling chaos. You finally find the seating number after bumbling around for longer than you would've liked to admit. And before you know it Alana and Betty have come back mulled bear in hand an dried peanuts in the other, seemingly without delay the home team takes their defensive positions and the game gets well and truly under way.

But just as your mind is finally taken away from the blonde-haired equivalent of a sea barnacle on your brain that simply won't get off the interior of your mind: you spot him in the flesh.

A tanned face and beaming pair of blue-grey eyes meet yours from across the field. Definitely not the face of a person suffering from strep throat and is most definitely the face of the man who'd shattered your heart with a simple note stating that he couldn't "do this anymore" left on the windowsill: John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

Your friends hadn't caught on, clearly as they continued business as usual for the rest of the game, trying and failing in engaging you in conversation about what was transpiring on the field. But you couldn't pay attention, no you were paying particular attention to one man on the field.

The game ends unceremoniously, with Alana drenched from the amount of times Betty had thrown her hands in anger spilling mulled bear across the seats, and her friend.

But just as you three gather yourselves to get going, a familiar touch caress the clothed skin of your shoulder. Jack. "Funny seeing you here, I'd hoped you were withering away in that dorm of yours from Strep. Clearly not."

"You know I hate to disappoint you but I seem to have made a miraculously quick recovery. Dr. Schuab says it was the fastest he's ever seen!" Jack chuckles in an effort to diffuse the present tension that one could only cut with a butcher's knife.

"Well now that's not the truth, our last encounter disappointed me greatly"

"I know that Honey--" you physically recoiled at the term of endearment, a mix of revulsion at the man he caused you and the desire that the very presence of him inspired in you.

"--and that's why I came to talk to you. Look you stay here and I'm going to clean up and come right back to explain it all to you. Promise you'll wait for me, it'll be worth your while."

You quietly nod in shock immediately defaulting to agreeing to whatever he says, he has that certain effect on you it would seem. And before you know it Jack's scrambling to keep up with his teammates before entering the locker rooms.

Jack keeps you waiting for about 15 minutes, a minute longer and you would've walked out until you saw that beaming face barrelling towards you. Without a word he took your hand, leading you down a flight on stairs and directly onto the field. "Isn't this like totally, one-hundred percent illegal?"

"I wouldn't worry about it. See those floodlights up there? Dad funded them." Jack says in a tone trying to portray humbleness but failing in an adorable manner.

Your still stood fully upright as jack plops his body onto the fake turf, rolling around like a labrador in the summer heat. But just as quickly, his eyes zero in on you and he crawls his way, ever so slowly to your feet.

You squint your eyes in confusion as he goes to rest his head upon the fleshy part of your stomach, placidly placing suggestive kisses around the area. You quickly take the base of his head within his hands--"Now what in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Just resting. Is it bothering you?" He says innocently "No what's bothering me is that you're acting like nothing happened, like you didn't completely cut me off."

"Baby I was being stupid, you gotta forgive me. I get like that sometimes, a compulsion of sorts to run. It had nothing to do with you." Jack says, and you don't know if youyourre stupid or smart for believing his words. You become puddy in his hands, slowly dropping to the grass as he starts to suck on your stomach with his lips, desperate to leave a mark. A monument.

Jack slowly taps on your face, waking you out of the passionate haze, and delicately slips his digits into your mouth. Encouraging and praising you to keep sucking them, telling you "what a good girl you're being for him" "the best in the god damn world". His moves are as smooth as a ballet dancers as he enters them into your warm, engorged mound. His fingers are an inviting stretch that leaves you whimpering to an empty stadium. As you moans start to increase in brevity and volume Jack places you on your back and starts to climb on top of you overing words of encourgament

"--Oh it's a big stretch isn't it. I haven't been taking care of you have I? I need to remedy that for my best girl don't I Huh? Don't I?" he says in a tone so patronising it's deeply arousing. Suddenly he stops his motions "Come on Y/n I wanna hear you say it. You need my help."

Your pleas come out quick and breathy "I do I do-Jack you have no idea". Once you reach your climax you feel as though you've been possessed, a good all-encompassing possession that you pray to never be broken free of. In the struggle the valley of your breasts are now fully exposed to Jack and in typical Jack fashion he uses this to his advantage.

Consistently sucking on your nipples while unbuttoning the fly of his pants and boxers all at the same time. It's then when you release a sticky substance coating his boxers. It's only then that you realise that in the haze of your personal euphoria, you had missed that Jack had came in his pants simply from pleasuring you. What a sight that was.

In recognising this you unconsciously giggle to yourself, to which Jack notices quickly throwing his soiled underwear and pants to the side "Hey now, what's got you giggling?"

"Nothing" you breath out, turning your head to the side feeling it be slightly irritated by the artificial turf. "Oh nothing really? We'll i'll give you something to giggle about, c'mere" quickly he grabs dominant possession of your hips and plunges his cock into your warm mound, already sensitive. Plunging in and out, in and out. And in such quick succession that you're sure to have grass burn the next morning.

He continues until for a while until he completely removes himself, and rests his member on your stomach slapping it around the flesh just to tease your already desperate frame, before quickly inserting it back where it belongs. "Best girl, pretty please hold on just for a minute, want to cum with you around me."

"Can't--Jack I-i"

"Yes you can and you will" Jack says in a tone that leaves no room for rebuttal. Finally you know you can finally let go when the tell-tale signs of Jack's impending climax appears: the relaxed eyebrows, shut eyelids, and rapid movements.

Jack holds you tight to your chest, his hot spurts filling you up wholeheartedly. Minutes later you stay like this, held together by each other's limbs.

"You think you can walk--never mind" Jack changes his mind mid-sentence after taking a look at you, completely blissed out, and adopts a bridal-carry despite his poor back, transporting you from one end of the field to the other.

You start to drift off as he carries you out of the stadium and back onto campus grounds, lullabied by the sound of his breaths and the faint kisses he litters across the crown of your head. The most delightful jewels any girl in Massachusetts could even dream of having.

the end.

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