#apologies if there are any typos or whatever

[psychangels]

realizing i think i might just have rlly low standards for Stuff

the other day i was talking with a friend on discord abt music, and i realized that i have a rlly low standard for music bc i will listen to just abt anything and be like "yea this slaps"

but now i'm like. huh. maybe i'm just that way abt Most Things

the only thing i have proper standards for is storytelling, and even with that i tend to be lenient in regards to certain things

[simthorium]

“Met in high school, huh?” Tyler asked as he sat beside Joel in Caleb’s living room. “I bet she was just as stubborn and hard headed back then.” “Oh, she was,” Joel said with a laugh. “That’s what made me like her.”

“Your mom was so special, kid,” Tyler said to Caleb.  “And she would be so proud and excited that you’re having a baby!” Joel exclaimed. “And making her a grandmother.” “Which mean we’ll be grandfathers,” said Tyler. “You sure will be,” Caleb said with a smile. He snuggled up with a very pregnant Cammie on the couch. It was nice, bringing his father and step-father together. Sure, it wasn’t traditional, but his tiny, cobbled-together family was all he could ask for.

“I can’t believe we get to meet you soon, little one,” Caleb said, rubbing Cammie’s belly as soon as she stood up. “I’m sure she really enjoys hearing your voice, but you’re blocking the bathroom, buddy,” Cammie said as she waddled over. “How do you know it’s a girl?” Caleb asked, only a tiny bit disappointed. “Trust me, honey,” called Cammie. “Call it mother’s intuition.”

Caleb hugged Tyler, who was turning in for the night, then Joel, who would be living with the couple for a little while. They had a tiny office/nursery/guest room that was just big enough for a blow up bed. And Caleb really wanted to re-establish a relationship with his father, especially now that he was about to become one. “Thanks for everything, dad,” said Caleb, hugging Joel tight. Joel rubbed Caleb’s back. “Of course, kid,” he said. “I got you.”

Early the next morning, Cammie unexpectedly went into labor. Caleb had already taken off for work, and the only one around was Joel. “OH MY GODDDDDDDD,” Cammie screeched as she gave birth. “Do something!” Joel was full on panicking, but he took a deep breath and calmed himself down, trying to remember what he did when his own son was born. He immediately called Caleb to tell him the news then sprung into action.

Soon, Cammie was holding a very tiny baby in her arms. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she looked at her new daughter. “She’s so beautiful, Cammie,” Joel said. “Thanks, Joel,” Cammie sniffed. “And thanks for helping with the birth. I can’t believe Caleb missed it, he’ll be so mad.”

Caleb got home as fast as he could. He hopped out of his work carpool and ran into his apartment at lightning speed.

As he did, he saw Cammie standing in the middle of the living room, holding their daughter. He couldn’t believe his eyes.  “Come meet your baby girl,” Cammie said.

She gently handed the baby over to Caleb, who was trembling as he looked down at her sweet face. “She looks like me,” Caleb said with a watery laugh as tears streamed down his face. “She looks just like me!” “She does,” Cammie said. “Even though I did all the work.” “I have an idea for a name,” said Caleb. “What is it?”

Caleb cuddled his daughter close, feeling her heartbeat against his. “Alana,” he said. “Maybe it’s silly, but I didn’t want to name her Ariel after my mom. That’s too much pressure to put on a kid. But in The Little Mermaid, Ariel’s got a bunch of sisters with pretty names, and one of them is Alana. And I feel like if our baby looks like me, she must also look like my mom.” “That’s not silly at all,” said Cammie. “I love it. Our little baby Alana.”

[amomentsescape]

Slashers x reader with wings. Reader's wings are bound, hidden and look heavily damaged from that.

How do the slashers find out? How do they react?

Add the crow guy, Eric, I think?

Slashers with Winged! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Eric

A/N: I am once again sleep deprived, so I apologize if there are any typos or nonsense that I didn't catch reading through this. Thank you for your request!

Freddy Krueger

As mentioned in many previous posts, you can't really hide anything from Freddy

Whenever you sleep, you're in his territory, and he can do whatever he pleases

And one of the last things he'll ever let you do is hide yourself from him

He could see the damage from all the years of hiding your wings, binding them up in hopes no one would notice

And this honestly pisses him off a bit

Why would you ever want to be like everyone else?

Your wings were beautiful, and they made you that much more special

The moment he sees your wings free, you better believe he'll never let you hide them again

Anyone who even gives you the slightest look will be dealt with that same night

Michael Myers

Another one that you can't really hide anything from

He may let you think that he doesn't know about your wings

But in reality, he's known about them this whole time

However, he won't push you to reveal yourself to him until you're ready

It's not like it's a huge deal to him anyways

He's neutral about the whole situation

Wings or no wings, nothing will sway his opinion on you

Just don't wait too long to talk to him about it though

The more time that passes, the more irritated he'll become

Because after this much time together, you have to fully trust him now

Right?

Jason Voorhees

Jason is pretty much clueless from the start

It's not that he isn't observant to you (he watches you 24/7)

It's just that he fully respects your boundaries and won't even hold your hand unless you tell him he can

So when he accidentally walked in on you one day and saw your damaged wings, he just stands there in shock

He snaps out of it when he notices your bashful and worried face however

He's just so confused on why you would hide this from him

He thinks your wings suit you perfectly

In fact, it makes him feel even more assured that you two are meant for each other

He also grew up wanting to hide a part of himself

But having each other means fully embracing the insecurities of the other

He doesn't ever want you to hide your wings from him again

Thomas Hewitt

He honestly would have never even knew about them if it wasn't for his need for late night affection

He just wanted to cuddle up next to you in the middle of the night

But he was met with something out of place on your back

He couldn't help but peek, and the moment he did, he was stunned

But did he even think about running?

No. He just decided to wait until morning to talk to you about it

When he asked you, he could tell you were uncomfortable

And because of this, he did everything he could to reassure you that he wasn't upset or grossed out by your wings

He loves them!

He took them in his hands gently and carefully removed the bindings

There will be no more hiding from him after that

And he'll happily caress your wings every night until you feel reassured

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba didn't mean to walk in on you like this

But the moment he sees the wings, all decency goes out the door

He stumbles in further, his hands reaching out to them

They're breathtaking... but why are they so damaged?

It physically hurts him to see you in any type of pain, and yet you've been carrying this around with you this whole time?

He's a bit hurt you didn't feel comfortable talking to him about this, but he's even more hurt by the fact that they look painful to you

He doesn't even let you protest before he's breaking the ties and freeing the wings

He's blubbering to you, making you promise to never hurt yourself like this, especially when it's something so cool

He spends the next few days playing with your wings, admiring them like a kid with a new toy

Brahms Heelshire

The day he finds out about your wings is one of betrayal

Brahms refuses to let you keep secrets from him, and hiding such a big thing from him upsets him greatly

How can he trust you?

You’ll need to give him some time to cool down, but once he does, he’ll be on you

Will force you to free your wings so he can play with them

It honestly hurts him a bit to see the destruction brought to them

He empathizes with you a bit

He has also spent a good portion of his life hiding a part of himself

But it’s because of this experience that he refuses to let you do the same any longer

You’re with him now anyways

He’ll never let you leave the house

So there will never be another soul to judge this part of you ever again

Norman Bates

He’s kind of speculated for a bit that you were hiding something

He didn’t know exactly what, he just could feel it in his gut

This insecurity was beginning to eat away at him until the day he finally saw the truth

It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t a bit scared at first

Angels have wings, but so did the devil

But seeing your pained expression reassured Norman that you were far from something evil

Once he let everything soak in, he’ll be all over you asking questions

He wants to know everything about you and your wings

He doesn’t want you to hide them anymore, and he’ll take the time each night to clean them and help heal them from years of damage

These are a part of you, and he loves everything about you

Billy Loomis

Billy doesn't really speculate anything

He's confident that he would be able to tell if you were keeping anything from him

Until the night he sneaks in through your window in hopes of surprising you

But instead, he's the one with the surprise

He sees you looking sadly at yourself through the bathroom mirror, your damaged wings on full display

He spends the next few days going radio silent towards you

But on the fourth day, he storms your room and interrogates you on your wings

Why the hell would you lie to him?

He doesn't care that you have something that makes you "different"

He's simply hurt that you kept it from him

However, it only takes an open conversation for him to calm down

He's still a little pissy but happy to know the truth

Just don't keep anything from him again

Stu Macher

This boy is absolutely clueless

But his unconditional, completely suffocating affection is what finally makes you feel comfortable to open up to him

And when you do, his eyes widen and his jaw drops

You almost think he's going to be upset until he speaks

"That's fucking sick"

Has you unbind them immediately with the promise that you won't keep them hidden away like that anymore

He constantly reassures you that anyone who sees them will have the same reaction as him

There are thousands of people that would kill to have wings like yours

Stu included

So don't ever hide something that literally makes you so unique

He loves them

Vincent Sinclair

You honestly told him about your wings right away

It was after a deep conversation about his own insecurities over his appearance and scars

He showed you his face, and you showed him your wings

It was a raw moment of vulnerability between you two, and all it did was strengthen your bond

After that night, you rarely saw him wear that mask, and he refused to let you tied up your wings like that again

He wants to love the real you

And any part you hide from him is a part of you that he can't love freely

He thinks your wings are beautiful, and you become even more of a inspiration for his art

You are quite literally an angel in his eyes, and he won't ever take advantage of that

Bo Sinclair

He was being flirty and touchy, as Bo does

And the moment he felt your back, he was throwing questions at you left and right

There was no lying or hiding the truth from him any longer

Bo hates secrets

So when you fully reveal yourself to him, he's shocked

He doesn't really know what to say at first

He didn't think something like this was possible

But after finally accepting the reality of the situation, he angrily begins tearing off your bindings

How dare you hurt yourself like this? How could you willingly lie to him after all this time?

He's a good mixture of disbelieving and pissed at you

It'll take a couple days to fully understand the situation

But once he does, it's smooth sailing

Eric Draven

Eric is all-knowing

And he knows that you're keeping something from him

But unlike a lot of the others, he's not upset or angry about it

You'll tell him when you're ready, and he trusts you enough to know it isn't anything terrible

And once you do open up about it, he's in absolute awe

His companion is a crow for goodness sake

To think he was ever going to react in any way other than admiration would have been stupid

He does get a bit emotional seeing your wings all tied up and damaged however

He's gentle with you as he sets them free

To see that pain you put yourself through really upsets him

He doesn't ever want you to do something like that again, especially when he sees this as a true gift

He'll spend the rest of the night cleaning and taking care of them, lulling you to sleep

[prncessjaeger]

cherry ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

olderbf!eren loves you so much! he’d do anything to cater to your needs, no matter what it was. you want the newest prada bag? he bought it. you wanted the newest iphone since it was pink? he bought it. he once bought out your favorite clothing brand’s newest line just because he knew you’d want them. that’s how much he loves you, and let’s not forget when you grace his lap in your newest short miniskirt, cropped tee to match which had him hard as a rock. “rennie look, they have those yoga sets on sale, they have pink, white, black..."

unbeknownst to you just yet, he moved your hips slightly back and forth once, groaning quietly when he felt the imprint of your covered cunt, “so i’m thinking getting pink and black, maybe mix and match them just a bit, you know?” you turned to his face, seeing him breath in sharp intakes, “what’s the matter-oh…oh?” you turned fully around to straddle his lap and eren inhaled yet another sharp breath, 

“you just can’t resist me, huh?” you moved your hips much faster than before, dropping your phone on the cushion next to you and wrapped one arm around his neck, eren doing the same around your waist, “f-fuck, keep going baby,”

he grunted when he felt the warmth of your lips gracing his neck and the other reaching in the waistband of his sweats, your smaller hands rubbing along the shaft of his dick. he moved his lips to yours, kissing you feverishly, and lifted your hips slightly, sliding your panties to the side rubbing your clit softly. you grabbed his hardened cock and tried (and struggled) to fit it insice your warm, puckered hole and toji chuckled, “it’s not funny, eren!”

“it’s okay, hold on for a sec,” your pout was evident on your face and he kissed it, entering 2 fingers inside your cunt and continued to stimulate your clit with his thumb simetameously, “there we go, baby,” your whimpers were soft and whiny, “erennn…more i wan more,”

“you’re so needy, baby,” he grinned, and moved his fingers at a much faster pace, fulfilling your needs and once you were knocked out cold, he grabbed your phone and purchased the three yoga sets, saving you the trouble of just choosing one 🎀

an: if there’s any typos in names or whatever my apologies!!!

[nervouseden]

God Among Men.

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: After a stressful mission, your super soldier boyfriend needs you... This is literal trash. I apologize.

Warnings: SMUT. Brief mention of religious stuff. Worshipping. Misuse of religious terms. Collar and leash (it's really only mentioned like once or twice). Gender neutral reader. Blowjob. Face fucking. Finger sucking. Bucky Barnes (he's a warning). Metal arm (kink). A tad bit of hair pulling. Rough blowjob. Reader isn't the best at communicating. Praise. Some brief degradation. Voice kink (because who couldn't love that sweet baritone?). Brief mention of Shuri and Wakanda. Sir kink. Tears. Choking (from bj). Deep throating. Dom Bucky. Sub reader. Bucky's kinda rough. But also super sweet and concerned. Use of safe signal(?) like a safe word but nonverbal. Brief after care. Loosely Implied fingering/penetration afterwards. Like zero plot. Porn without Plot/Plot? What plot? Mildly dubious consent (not really, but I just want to be safe with my warnings!)

Please comment if you think I missed anything!

A/N: This is like my second or third time writing actual smut, please give me grace— Also I had this idea while sleep deprived and I'm currently stuck in artists/writers block so it's probably not my best work. But, I tried. This was written on my phone and not proofread, so I do apologize for any and all mistakes/typos.

A/N #2: I have absolutely nothing against any religions or religious people, and this is not meant to offend or target anybody in any way, shape, or form!

I do not own any characters mentioned in this story or the gif.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

18+!!! MINORS AND PEARL CLUTCHERS PLEASE DNI!!!

You were never a very religious person, having loose beliefs that you didn't necessarily align with anything specific, and you were fine with that, but that all changed one day, and in the way you least expected it. The day you first hooked up with Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes, or, as you knew him, Bucky, your best friend. You swear that night you might've been to Heaven, or Valhalla, or maybe even reached Nirvana, but whatever it was, it was caused by the super soldier Avenger fucking you into oblivion, with a godly body and otherworldly skills. Not only does he look like some mythical god, but he has the skills and the strength of one too. A god among men.

Bucky is a complicated man; He doesn't talk much, but once you get him going, he could talk to you for hours. He is tall and broad, dark and brooding, with a glare that could kill, but also sweet and soft, caring and considerate, with a smile that makes you weak in the knees... So, when your relationship evolved into something sexual, it wasn't a surprise when his prowess matched his godly looks. His quick wit matched by his skilled tongue. Strong hands matched with his (surprisingly) nimble fingers. He's also a kinky mother fucker.

Today, after Bucky got back from a rough, week long mission, apparently most of the team getting their asses kicked, you found yourself on your knees in front of him, naked, wearing nothing back a black leather collar and a silver chainlink leash, your head resting on his lap as he gently pets your cheek with his flesh hand.

"Doll," Bucky's voice is low, lower than usual, and it sends shockwaves of desire coursing through you, shocking your core.

"Yes, sir?" Your voice is soft, quiet, and shaky, a mix of nervousness, arousal, and hours of teasing from this man, this god, making you weak, your voice a minute version of it's usual sound, making Bucky chuckle.

You look up at him through heavy eyelids, your eyes raking up his body hungrily; He's wearing black sweatpants, no shirt, and you're not entirely sure about boxers. His long hair is tousled, the dark locks resting on his broad shoulders, the otherworldly muscles rippling under his skin covered in scars, his normally bright blue eyes darkened to an almost eerie tungsten blue. He's a literal god. The epitome of divinity.

"You've been so good~" Bucky practically purrs, and you already feel your abdomen tightening. "But not good enough."

Well shit.

You're definitely not getting what you want tonight.

"Talk to me, Kätzchen. Tell me what you're thinkin' about." You hesitate, but you know better than to directly disobey.

"I..." You look down, biting your lip. "I was thinking about you... H-How beautiful you are, James..."

Bucky smirks. This wasn't what he was expecting. "Oh?"

You simply nod. "Do elaborate, Kätzchen." Bucky quirks a brow, and you fight the urge to squirm in embarrassment.

"Y-You..." You sigh, deciding to bite the bullet. What's the worst that could happen? He laughs at you and uses it against you? That'd suck... but it would be a lot worse if you didn't speak. Those are always back. You don't want another spanking...and definitely not the crop. Yeah, no, that'd be bad. Better spit it out.

"You're fuckin' beautiful..." You practically whimper, and Bucky smirks.

"I know you've got more than that, sweetness." Bucky teases, and you know he's right. He's always right... It's unfair. How can a man possibly be so attractive and smart? You're starting to think he might actually be a higher power. "C'mon, doll, don't make me hit it outta ya."

Shit. That's a threat. "You're... You're a god among men, Sir... Divinity in itself... Crafted from the finest of marbles known to man... I want to submit everything I have to you."

Bucky simply smirks.

Uh oh.

"Is that so, Kätzchen?" You swallow hard, nodding, watching his eyes stare into yours with an intensity that could burn you to the ground. Yup. Definitely a god.

"Y-Yes, Sir... I... You are my god, James..." Oops. Normally Bucky doesn't take kindly to being called his name during scenes, but for some reason, he just smirks and lets it slide. That's different.

"I want my body to be your altar, your temple, your church... I am your devotee..." You whisper softly, your voice shaky and almost nervous, scared, although you're unsure what you're scared of.

"Darling..." Bucky growls, his pupils dilated so much you can barely see the ring of blue, his vibranium hand clenching on lap, his breathing picking up, that beautiful, chiseled chest rising and falling faster by the second, sweat starting to bead on his skin... You did that?

"You have such pretty lips, yet such nasty words..."

Bucky's Vibranium hand moves to the back of your neck suddenly, grabbing you by the nape of it, pushing your face into his clothed crotch, allowing you to feel the feverish heat, the wet spot on his sweats, and the rock that is his cock. "I'm not gonna last long if you keep sayin' shit like that, doll."

You whimper. Loudly. Pathetically. Lewdly. What the fuck else are you supposed to do? You just mentally brought THE Sargeant James Barnes to his knees from just a few sentences, you don't know whether to be terrified or proud... But, either way, you're not given much time to decipher how you feel, as Bucky starts to rub the side of your cheek against his strained length, the rough cotton of his sweatpants irritating your sweat shined cheeks.

"You're gonna be a good little devotee. You're gonna listen, you're gonna do as told, and you're gonna take what I give you, like a good cock slut."

Bucky's voice is a deep, dangerous growl, the sound rumbling through his chest, rolling down his abdomen and vibrating through him and into you, shooting electricity through your body, your nerves immediately on fire, your thighs quaking, your mind reeling into the abyss of lust.

"Aren't you, Kätzchen?" Bucky says with a groan, looking at you expectantly, a dark smirk on his face.

"Y-Yes, Sir... I will... I'll b-be good..." You whimper out, look up at him with doe eyes, fighting the urge to look down as he slides his sweatpants to his ankles, tossing them aside.

Bucky gently cups your chin with his vibranium hand, the dark metal shining in the dimly lit room as he puts his thumb against your lips, grinning at the feeling. "Open."

You immediately do as told, parting your lips, slowly swirling your warm tongue around his thumb as he slides the cool metal into your mouth, causing Bucky to groan sorry... It's moments like these when Bucky is most grateful to Shuri for creating touch sensors in the arm, allowing him to feel everything you do to his Vibranium arm... Wakandan technology truly is incredible.

"That's a good little whore..." Bucky groans as he uses his thumb in your mouth to tilt your head down, your eyes widening as they meet the sight of Bucky's cock.

Huh. He wasn't wearing any boxers.

"Let this be your first sacrament, devotee." Bucky chuckled.

Long. Impressive. Intimidating. Yet another reason you're starting to think he might actually be a god. No matter how many times you see it, swallow it, and take it, it's always just as intimidating as the first time. His cock is tall, curving slightly as it goes up, getting redder until it gets to the almost purple tip, your hand barely able to wrap around the girth, one large vein going from the shaft to the tip, where creamy pre-cum is beading. You might as well be salivating...and shaking in fear.

"C'mon, doll, I know you can take it." Bucky purred, wrapping his vibranium hand in your hair, guiding your face to rub against his length. It's almost humiliating. But it's also beyond arousing.

"Yes, sir." You mutter softly, licking your lips, raising your head when Bucky loosens his grip on your hair. You spit on the head of Bucky's cock, causing it to twitch where it stands, before gently wrapping your mouth around the tip, your tongue swirling around the tip, teasing the slit, causing Bucky to groan.

"Your god is losing patience, Kätzchen." Bucky growls, before tightening his vibranium hand in your hair, violently pushing your head down his cock, his length forcefully sliding down your velvety throat, only stopping when your nose is flush with his pelvic bone, groaning as he revels in the feeling, hissing as his head falls back in pleasure. "Shiiiit— So warm, Kätzchen...like fuckin' silk, doll..."

To nobody's surprise, you choke, choke hard, coughing around Bucky's member, who simply enjoys the way your throat constricts when you do so. Tears quickly form, as you try to focus on relaxing your throat and taking deep breaths in through your nose, but are quickly cut off as Bucky pulls your hair back, sliding your mouth off his length before pushing your head back down.

"Fuckin' perfect... gorgeous little devotee..." Bucky groans, starting to roll his hips as he continues to roughly guide your head up and down his cock, face fucking you as you cry and choke. Yup. You definitely fucked up calling him James.

Bucky had been tense since he texted you from the Quinjet, so when he starts to throb in your mouth rather than usual, you're not necessarily surprised, that mission really took a toll on him. You hollow your cheeks, and start gently scraping your teeth against Bucky's length as he continues to thrust into your face, his balls slapping against your chin with every snap of his strong hips.

"That's it, Kätzchen, worship me, your fuckin' god-"

Fuck, you were dizzy.

Your eyes start to roll back, head feeling fuzzy, your body seeming heavier, the restricted intake of oxygen starting to get to you, as more tears fall, but being the absolute bitch you are for Bucky, you're determined to make him cum before taking a breather.

"C'mon, babydoll, I'm so close... Lemme cum in your pretty little mouth... Let me desecrate the perfect altar that is you..." He groans, his hips snapping harder, shuddering at your teeth scraping his skin, only to be soothed by your hollowed cheeks and hot throat.

Your vision was starting to get fuzzy around the edges, but you still didn't communicate your need to breathe... Instead, you move your hands up to cup his heavy balls, massaging them roughly as you suck harder at his length.

That was all it took.

"Fuck!"

Bucky growls, the sound dark and primal, sending jolts of pleasure to your deprived body, his flesh hand joining his vibranium one in your hair, holding you uncomfortably flush to his skin as his cock throbs, pulsing rapidly as rope after rope of hot cum spills down your throat, your hands still massaging his balls as they empty into you, your muscles working overtime to swallow it all... Since being with him, you found that super soldiers have loads like damn fire hydrants. Not that you're complaining. Usually.

"Baby... Ughhh—" You had expected Bucky to pull you off his cock once he finished, but he didn't, instead he held you flat to his pelvis, basking in the feeling of your hot, velvet throat surrounding him, groaning and growling in pleasure.

You couldn't do it. Your vision was completely blurred, tears still falling, your feelings like concrete, sweat pouring down you, your mind fogged like shower glass. You take your right hand, tapping your index, middle, and ring finger on his thigh three consecutive times.

He immediately pulls your head off his length, pulling you up to his lap as you cough and suck in heavy breaths.

"Doll? Doll, are you alright? Did I hurt you?" Bucky asks hurriedly, his vibranium hand holding you close to him and rubbing your back, while his flesh hand gently holds your face. "Darling, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

It takes you a few moments to process his words, as they sounded more like mumbles from underwater at first. But, as your vision cleared, your tears stopped, the fogginess left your mind, and your breathing started regulating, you finally registered his words and nodded yes. "Y-Yeah... I- I'm fine..." You murmur with a raspy voice, your throat scratchy from the rough blowjob.

Bucky sighed in relief, brushing away your tears with his flesh hand, peppering kisses on your face. "Alright..." He didn't sound too convinced, worried he hurt you, but decided to focus on cleaning you up and caring for you.

He grabbed the pack of baby wipes from the table next to the chair you two are on, taking one out, gently wiping your flushed face clean of the saliva, sweat, cum, and tears. He then opened a bottle of water, gently holding it to your lips. "Have some water, baby." He murmurs as he helps you take small sips, putting it down after about ¼ of the bottle is gone.

"There you go, Kätzchen...You did so good, I'm so damn proud of you, love." Bucky praised softly, pulling you closer to his chest and rocking side to side gently.

"Th-Thank you..." You murmur quietly, your voice still a little raspy, as you tuck your head in Bucky's neck, your sweat covered bodies moulding together, as Bucky's flesh hand slowly creeps down to your sex. "Time for your reward."

[k-hotchoisan]

Yunho smut with his hands? 🥴

Oh god I love his hands I want them around my neck so bad. My choking kink is off the fucking charts whenever Yunho’s hands are present. Here’s something for you, pretty. Enjoy Yunho and his pretty little hands.

Synopsis: what are the odds of getting a tattoo and getting fucked by your tattoo artist because you cannot stop staring at his fuckin hands

Warnings/genres: tattoo au!, mention of needles, slight size kink, choke kink, unprotected sex, hands kink, cream pies, fingering

A/n: I am so sorry for the amount of typos. I fucking swear this isn’t what usually happens omg

You stood before the apartment door, double checking that you got the right address—yeah you definitely did. He did mention that it was a home-based studio. Your first tattoo appointment and you were so nervous because you don’t know what to expect. Hongjoong had assured you to just go with an open mind. You didn’t know much about your tattoo artist, only knowing that his name was Yunho, nonetheless, you did really like his art style, and you soon settled on him with Hongjoong’s advice.

Back to present, you pushed the doorbell, and it echoes through the apartment. There is a silence before the doorknob clicks. The door pulls back, and before you, stood a really tall male. His sharp eyes make him look very intimidating and for a moment your heart races, and you wonder if you stopped into the wrong house.

“You are?” He asks, and rumbles you even more because his voice is so fucking deep for no reason.

You manage to find the voice stuck in your throat, as you reply, “y/n, here for a 7pm tattoo appointment with Yunho?”

His face softens immediately as his eyes brighten up. “Ah right! Yunho’s client! Come in. I’ll get Yunho in a bit”. He ushers you in as you remove your shoes.

You step inside, soaking in the interior of the apartment. It was definitely a shared space—the common areas were spacious, maybe just spacious enough to serve for two people. It was a pretty clean looking, monochromatic layout.

“Oh right, my name’s Mingi. Song Mingi, but you can call me Mingi”, he introduces himself brightly, his smile contagious. “I’m his room mate.” You smile back.

“Please excuse the mess by the way”, he laughs as he leads you through the corridor, and the both of you are standing in front of a wooden door. Mingi knocks the door before saying “Hyung, I’m coming in” with a raised voice. He pushes the door handle down and the door opens. The subtle hint of lavender hits you from the humidifier and it instantly relaxes you.

On the cushioned rolling stool sat your tattoo artist, his frame is as tall as Mingi’s, messy brunette locks tussled on his head. He’s in simple black shirt but he still looks so fucking good. He’s absorbed on his iPad, still sketching out the little details of what seems to be your tattoo.

You feel your heart beat a little too quickly the moment your eyes land on him because you did not expect him to be that attractive.

And you are gonna be stuck with him for at least a couple of hours together.

Mingi raps the door again, and that’s when Yunho looks up, and you take a good look at his face. He doesn’t look like whatever you expected him to look like, well, not that you had any pictures to reference him from to begin with. But definitely, he is pretty fucking good looking. You stay rooted at the entrance of the door, mooning over your tattoo artist in a tight black shirt while he eyes you up and down with a soft smile.

“Oh right! My apologies”, Yunho finally speaks and he sounds like honey, and it suddenly makes you slightly thirsty. “Hey. I’m Yunho. We finally meet”, he greets with a hand up.

His fucking hands. Oh my fucking gods. He has a silver ring cuffing his index finger. Then he beckons you to go over to him. Mingi tilts his head to Yunho’s direction before saying that he needs to leave, giving you a small nod before shutting the door.

You have no choice but to inch closer to Yunho, who’s smiling at you like a fucking golden retriever, and you wonder to yourself ‘this dude is a fucking tattoo artist?’ Yunho beckons you to take seat on an empty stool across him as he mentions to give him a couple more minutes to finish up the design draft. You nod, even if he doesn’t see it since his attention is back on his iPad. You quietly stare at the way he makes his strokes with his Apple Pencil.

And you get a closer look at this long, slender fingers. You’ve never met anyone with such pretty hands before, yet the way he holds the pencil is so gentle, and almost attractive for some reason. It’s especially the way his fingers are veiny and long—his joints are angled in such a way it frames his fingers so fucking prettily. Yunho looks up and catches your gaze, and you flinch slightly, thinking you are caught in the act.

“Eager to see your design?” He asks playfully, a small smile tugging the corner of his lips. Oh thank fucking god.

“Yeah of course. I wonder what you came up with”, you quickly say, pretending to peek over at the iPad.

He brings up the iPad higher to his eye level and it’s the way his fingers curls around the tablet. He flips it over to you and you soak in the design he drew out for you. It’s what you wanted. You also don’t miss out how clean and neatly trimmed his fingernails are.

“Is it to your taste? Got any last minute changes you want before I print it out?” He asks, as he stands up and walks over to the printer. You shake your head slowly, trying not to swoon at how deliciously tall he is.

He beams. “Great! Then I’ll print a couple of sizes out. Take your pick okay? I’ll go grab some water for you.” You nod as he disappears out of the room through the door. The printer starts up and it begins to print out the stencil.

You look around the room. Despite it looking small, it was pretty cozy looking. The room has comfortable lighting, with lamps, which you assume are for the tattoo work. There’s a small space just behind the empty stool you’re seated on, with smaller studio lights pointing towards the wall, which you deduce is probably where he takes photos of his finished products. His tattoo machine sat near to the tattoo bed, which was cling wrapped for sanitary purposes, including the pillows. Finally, a small desktop computer set up was against the wall, perpendicular to the small studio lights, with a printer at the side. The door knocks, a short pause before it pushes open, and it’s Yunho with a drink in hand.

He walks over to you and hands it to you, his fingers brushing against yours and it takes you so much nerves to have any wild thoughts. You take a sip to distract yourself as you hear scissors cutting through the tracing paper. As you open your eyes, Yunho is so fucking near your face that it makes your heart jump.

“Oh gosh! Did I scare you?” Yunho laughs as he takes the cup from your hand. “My apologies.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine. You just move so quietly”, you joke. Yunho smiles in reply as he places the cup on his desk.

“I need you to lift your shirt up for me”, Yunho instructs, staring at your abdomen.

Fuck, for a moment your mind plunges into some unknown territory. You forgot that your tattoo placement was above your hip. You roll the fabric up high enough, and you fucking jump when you feel Yunho’s fingertips brush against your skin, on your waist. “It’s here right? The placement that you wanted?” He confirms, his touch not leaving your skin. “Yeah”, you manage out.

He cuts a piece of tape to adhere the stencil onto your skin before bringing you over to the full length mirror right by the bed to let you confirm your placement. After a few adjustments (and hell of of him touching your waist with his bare hands which was definitely giving you insane haywire thoughts), you came to a placement which you are satisfied with. He sticks the stencil to your skin, much like a temporary tattoo, pulling out the tracing paper and letting it dry, before having you lie down in the bed as he prepared his inks.

“First tattoo?” He asks as he checks his gun.

“Yeah”, you reply, playing with your fingers from the nervousness.

Yunho chuckles. “That placement might hurt a little though. You’re a brave one.”

You only release a nervous laugh—wondering if it is for the tattoo or because of Yunho. He turns to you, tugging against his ring to remove it before snapping black latex gloves on before pushing your shirt higher. You bite you lip.

How the fuck does his hands look even better gloved? The black latex only enhances the length and shape of his hands, which curls around his tattoo gun.

“I’m gonna start now. Let me know if you need a break, yeah?” Yunho assures. You know it’s probably a customer service thing but god, why did he have to be so attentive?

He switches on the gun and it buzzes. He begins tattooing and sure enough, the placement you picked definitely hurt quite like a bitch, but you force yourself to pull through it.

“Is this okay? Does it hurt?” He asks before continuing.

“It does, but I think I’ll be fine”, you reply, thinking of something else to distract yourself from the pain. Throughout the session, Yunho makes conversations with you, making you laugh when you probably shouldn’t because he was stabbing needles at your waist but still. He was amazing at breaking the ice, especially in such a seemingly intimate space. You feel yourself unwind a little, and although it still hurt, you don’t feel so tense anymore. Nonetheless, you could not shake the thought about his hands running down your body every time you glance at Yunho doing your tattoo.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I even wanted to get a tattoo when I have a shit pain threshold”, you say in between soft giggles to cover up the pain and soreness that was starting to sink in.

“But you’re doing so well for me”, Yunho replies absentmindedly with a smile. Your head spins the moment he says that, butterflies were invading your stomach. What the fuck was that even? Now your stomach in twisting into knots when he’s praising you like that.

“We’re almost done. Hold on a little longer for me yeah?” He assures again, as you bear through the pain. It’s over quickly as he smoothes over your tattoo with a final swipe of the paper towel. He moves back a little to admire his work. He looks satisfied. He pulls his gloves off and sits you up gently, your stomach still fluttering as his fingers brush against your skin. He brings you to the full length mirror, and there you admire how gorgeous the tattoo looks.

“It looks amazing” you gasp, turning your side to have a better view of it. Yunho looks proud. He has his phone in his hand now and requests a few photos, which you obliged to of course. He adjusts your shirt before snapping a few pics.

“I really like how this turned out,” you gush. “Thank you Yunho.”

Yunho shakes his head. “Thank you for entrusting me to it, especially as your first tattoo.”

You laugh in response, and you don’t realise that he’s kneeled down at your waist, preparing to stick on the second skin. He sticks it on and instructs you on proper tattoo care before making another appointment for a touch up. You thank him and left the apartment, heart still beating in your ears.

You’ve developed a way too big of a crush on your tattoo artist now.

The touch up appointment came way too quickly than you thought. To be fair, you were still not over it, and as much as the tattoo scabbing and itch , it couldn’t compare to way Yunho’s hands kept brushing against your waist, as he checks on your tattoo. But in the past month, all you think about was Yunho and his fucking hands. Even now, when he’s only taking a look at your healed tattoo, your mind in swimming in the most dirtiest places you wanted him to touch.

You shut your eyes and bite your lip so no weird sound comes out from your mouth. You feel Yunho’s breath right at your waist as it tickles your skin, a soft sigh escapes your lips as your tattoo artist continues to rub against the tattoo.

And it doesn’t go unnoticed by Yunho.

He could very easily just tug your pants down and you would let him because fuck, he’s all you can think about now. Yunho stands up, and definitely notices how flushed your skin is looking, and he decides to test waters. He traps you at the tattoo bed, and you hear your heart in your ears as he inches closer. Now he’s pretty much towering over you as his fingers are tracing against your waist, sending goosebumps down your skin. “Your tattoo healed so nicely”, he says, hooking his index finger and thumb to your chin so you’d meet his gaze. Your gaze travels down to his pretty lips and he takes it as a sign to cup your neck and pull you in for a starved kiss, sending your mind into a fucking frenzy, and fireworks to go off in your eyelids. He tastes even better than you thought. Your eyes flutter open as he pulls back, catching your breath.

“Won’t Mingi hear?” You ask. He shakes his head. “Not anytime soon, doll.” His little pet name making you flush even harder, and it all goes down to your pussy, which is getting wet enough already, no thanks to your little fantasies and the fucking kiss.

“Now, stop thinking about him when I’m here.”

His hands touch your waist again, as he lifts you onto the tattoo bed, the plastic crinkling beneath you. You watch him breathlessly as he tugs against your bottoms, and your clothing articles drop to your ankles. Yunho doesn’t let them touch the ground, instead, he folds it hastily onto the other side of the bed, before turning his attention back to you, or your wet and sopping pussy.

Yunho licks his lips, before stroking your thighs to coax you to spread your legs open, and you do, your eyes following the way his fingers are stroking your thigh, alongside the ticklish feeling it was sending straight to your cunt.

“Such a pretty pussy, doll”, he compliments, his fingers trailing down your slicked cunt, before stopping right at your hole. He hears your little whimpers and cries, and it goes right to his hardened cock that’s pushing against his pants. But he knows being patient reaps the best rewards. He can be patient for you. Yunho’s fingers slowly plunge into your cunt, and your back arches in pleasure, because oh my fucking god, his fingers are long enough to hit a spongy area and it was sending fucking stars beneath your eyelids. Shivers tickle your spine as Yunho’s lips land soft kisses against your skin on your neck. His finger fucking was sending you into the heavens.

A kiss on your cheeks makes your eyes flutter open, and you meet Yunho’s gaze.

“I’ve noticed”, he sighs, slowing down his finger fucking in you. “That you seem really entranced by my hands since our first session.” Then he plunges his fingers in again, another cry leaving your lips as your eyes roll back.

Fuck. He found out.

“You have such pretty hands”, you admit, hiding your face with your arms, wondering what was more embarrassing—the fact that he found out about your fixation with his hands, or that he’s fucking your cunt with said fingers.

“So I should make really good use of it, right?” Yunho chuckles, adoring the way you’re squirming under his touch. He pulls your hands off your face and holds them down, and oh god, he was truly trying to drive you insane. He picks up the pace and every time his fingers press against your g-spot, your moans only grew louder and more desperate, and Yunho is progressively losing his rationale. He wants to fuck you so bad right now, and the thought of him railing you on his workspace only heightened his arousal, because he has never done that before.

Your orgasm only builds up even more quickly when he thumbs your clit after releasing your hands. Your hands are clawing his arms.

“Yunho, please. Oh god. That feels so fucking good. Gonna cum.”, you cry, lifting your legs higher, and that only encourages Yunho to pick up the pace, and the words that leave his lips-“cum on my fingers baby. You know you want to”- and a whimper escapes his lips the moment he feels your walls clench against his fingers, as moans pours out of you when your orgasm floods your senses. Yunho lets you ride your orgasm out, slowly pushing his fingers in and out again, enjoying your cunt squeezing his fingers. He pulls out slowly and you barely catch your breath, as your gaze meet his. His fingers are full of your slick and cream, and plasters it on his lips, giving them a lick before sucking this pretty fingers, covered in your arousal, fucking clean. That does nothing but throw your head into a frenzy, and your cunt clenches at nothing, as you struggle to keep your composure.

But now Yunho is the one starting to lose it, as he haphazardly wipes his fingers on his slacks before hastily pulling his pants down, his cock springing out, glimmering with precum already, very evident thanks to the studio lights. God fuck, as if his hands weren’t pretty enough, his dick is too. Yunho bites his lip, staring at how fucked out you looked, especially since he hasn’t even fucked you good yet. He pushes your knees to bend even more, before lining his cockhead to your hole before sinking his cock right into you. You couldn’t even keep your eyes open at this point. Your cunt feels slightly sore, and your walls are hugging his cock so well that Yunho is fighting not to just fuck you senseless. Yunho groans at the sensation, but he leans in for another hungry kiss with you, before his hand snakes around your neck.

He pulls back. “I’m sorry. I really need to fuck you so bad right now. Fuck.” You can’t help but find that so endearing that he’s holding back. Your fingers tug your folds open more, letting him sink his cock further deeper into your heat, which makes him squeeze your throat. It feels so fucking amazing to have Yunho choke you out like this, and you make it even more evident by clenching around his cock.

He doesn’t hesitate this time, and starts fucking you so deep and good, that you fucking swear you see a bulge below your belly button every time his cock hits your cervix. The sensation of Yunho’s cock stuffing you full every time he thrusts into you paired with his hands around your neck—softly squeezing and letting go—is only pushing your second orgasm to hit you.

“I would have never guessed that you’d get off my hands this much”, Yunho hums, looking at the way your eyes are rolled back as his balls slap your ass every time he fucks into you, your hands grabbing onto his arm, clawing again from the bliss he’s fucking you into. “Do you like them that much?”

You fight every nerve to focus on answering him, eyebrows scrunched. “Y-yeah. Fuck, I fantasise you choking me out like this since that day. I dream about letting you do whatever you want to me with your han-“ getting cut off from a sob as his cock fills you up again—or did he just grow even bigger in you? Ah, fuck, it doesn’t matter.

“Naughty girl”, Yunho mutters with a smirk, his free hand slapping against your ass, the sound rippling through the room, making you arch your back even more.

“Yunho, p-please’, you stutter, the knot in your stomach so taut. “I think I’m gonna cum again”. Now you’re sobbing. This only encourages Yunho to tighten his grip around your neck as his strokes become harder, and you snap—broken sobs leaving your throat as your cunt fucking squeezes Yunho’s cock, the sensation of his hands around your neck only amplifies your orgasm as stars burst in your eyelids, and you cream so fucking much, that it gets onto the cling wrapped bed below you. Yunho immediately loses it, his thrusts becoming straight up ruts. He releases his grip from your neck, and the oxygen returns immediately, leaving your heaving. Yunho is leaning into your ear, as his both hands are now on your waist as he fucks desperately into your overstimulated cunt.

“You’re so fucking adorable, y/n. I’m cumming too”, he grunts, as he ruts a final time before a soft moan hits your ears, then a flood of his warm cum right into your spent pussy, and oh god, did that feel amazing. Yunho stays by your side for a moment, before straightening his back, and pulling out, not missing a beat at the way his cum just trickles down your inner thigh, out of your hole.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. This is your work space and all”, you panic, taking a handful of tissues that Yunho had offered to clean yourself up. Evidently, that doesn’t get to him because Yunho immediately rushes over the moment he notices the red marks around your neck.

“Shit, did I choke you too hard?” He asks rather frantically, lifting your chin up, rubbing against your neck gently. You shake your head, suddenly wanting to just kiss him again, but you hold yourself back. “Also, don’t worry about this. My next appointment isn’t until 4pm. I have time to clean up. You alright though?”

Fuck, why did he have to be hot and gentle? It was genuinely driving you nuts. “Is it okay if I use the toilet?” You ask, fitting your clothes on. Yunho immediately nods, rushing to the door to leave it open for you, as you gingerly head to the washroom.

You sigh as you leave the washroom, wondering if it was about to simply be a one time thing, because you were falling for your tattoo artist, hard and fast. Your gaze meets Yunho’s the moment you shut the door behind you, and Yunho has cleaning supplies in his hands. Suddenly your face flushes again, thinking at the mess the both you made.

Yunho’s smile doesn’t falter though, and you see a tint of red colouring the tips of his ears, which you could have definitely missed if you hadn’t noticed closely. There’s a strange air of silence between the both of you, that is, until Yunho speaks.

“My 4pm client is my last one for the day. I’ll text you when I’m done, if you’re down for dinner?” He asks, rubbing the nape of his neck shyly. Oh my fucking god. You laugh softly, because, holy shit, you never expected this outcome, and then you nod. “I’ll be waiting, Yunho”, you reply.

Yunho steps forward to you and strokes your head. “I’ll see you to the door then. And then I’ll see you tonight.”

[kessellluvr]

|| ARCTOBER ᵈᵃʸ ²⁹ - ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ||ｓｅｖｉｋａ

Summary: Long nights in the club.. reader is a bartender, unspoken promises wafting through the air like magic everytime Sevika’s gaze met yours. You couldn’t quite tell what to make of that smirk she gave you every time you walked past, bent down to place her drink down infront of her - the way her eyes lingered on you for just a moment longer than they should.. welp, that night you were feeling risky, testing limits and pushing boundaries.

Warnings: NSFW/ MDNI ; r!recieving, mention of smoking, name- calling, fingering, edging, semi-rough handling, bruising/hickeys, hook-up

AN: This isnt proofread and i was in a rush to finish it so i apologise for any typos x

Purple neon lights lit up the club, the bass of the underground techno music blasting through the large crowd. The magenta-grey smoke of cigars and hookah’s filling up the clubber’s senses. It was full house tonight, people going in and out - swarming the dancefloor like a bunch of bees. The bar was stacked with lines of people, some sitting, others having sloppy-drunken makeouts and most just wanting to get more booze. Great, the bartenders nightmare.

A big guy, middle aged lady and a precious little thing serving drinks - that‘d be you. Right, innocent and easy-prey looking, but oh boy you got a mouth on you. Apron tied tight around your waist, shaping your figure perfectly, hair tied back in a mid-high ponytail, waterline painted black and lashes adorned by mascara. A whistle rung over the music, making you quickly spin your head to find Sevika shoving away some other people at the bar. "Whiskey, neat and hurry the fuck up, im in no mood." Sevika´s deep voice grumbled, giving you an expectant look. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head but you quickly prepared her drink - top shelf whiskey in her signature glass, yes, she had her own glass. You slid it across the counter "Wait in line next time, you aint the only one in here."

"Whatever." As she grabbed her glass and went back to the gambling table. And so, the night went on, people getting more drunk and reckless, the music blasting louder - every possible chance you got, you stole a glance at Sevika - the way she confidently carries herself, winning game after game with that fucking smug smirk on her dark, scarred lips, god you had to admit: she was sexy, despite being an asshole. Everytime your eyes met you felt a strange heat coursing through your every cell.. your breath hitching a little anytime the corners of her dark lips twitched up.

Silco and the other chem-barons had taken their seats at their table a few minutes ago and you were supposed to bring their drinks over, cause of course they get special treatment. You despised them, they stink with money and order their workers around like animals..ugh.

Nonetheless, you went ahead and poured their order, carefully placing the glasses on a tray and moving through the crowd swiftly - well, atleast until some drunken asshole overlooked you and stumbled right into you. Drinks spilling all over you white apron - soaking into the fabric and revealing a tantalising glimpse of your bra underneath. Your eye twitched in annoyance, temper flaring as you spat some curses at the drunkard. "Get this dickhead out of my face!" you snapped, looking expectantly towards the bouncers. Of course, your wish was their command and the drunk was dragged out immediately, spluttering out an apology.

Your co-worker quickly re-made the drinks while you were busy kneeling on the floor and wiping the mess. "Well well, looks like you had a little mishap there, hmm?" that smug voice echoed above you. You scoffed, straightening up and looking up at her, defiance gleaming in your crystal eyes. "I dont need your fucking bullshit, Sevika. Think your something better, huh?" you spat - making Vika´s brow arch up, eyes taking on that dangerous purple gleam. Her thick, long fingers came to grasp your chin tightly "I think someone needs to fuck that damn attitude outta ya." You couldnt deny the delicious sensation in your lower abdomen at her words, your lips parted as if to say something but nothing came out.

"Thought so." Vika says with another smirk, lifting you up and throwing you over her shoulder unexpectedly, you yelped. "Let me go!" but you didnt really mean that, you loved the way she had her hands around your waist and you both knew that. She carried you up the stairs not even bothering to tell you where she was heading - soon enough you found yourself being thrown on the couch in her office. Your eyes widened, breath quickening as you tried to keep your composure. “What the fuck?”

“What’dya think? I’ll help you out of that damn soaked shirt and make good of my promise.. unless you dont want me to.” There it was again, that self-confident smirk, your teeth came down on your lip - teeth digging into the soft flesh as you nodded slowly, thinking of a snarky reply. “Of course, you totally wanna help me change and not just get your hands on me.”

“Shut it.” Vika growled, grasping your hair surprisingly gentle and smashing her lips down on yours, slow at first, tounge probing at your lips before you opened them for her - tangling your tounges together in a twist as her large hand slid down your body, mapping out the curves and grasping every bit of flesh she could find. Squeezing, caressing..

A soft moan slipped from your lips, muffled by her mouth as she eagerly tugged your shirt over your head - pulling away to throw the shirt carelessly on the floor. Her hands came to swiftly undo your bra - letting it join your shirt on the floor. "Fuck, such gorgeous tits." Vika growled before latching onto one of your nipples, suckling and making them form into hard peaks. Whimpers mignled with the wet sounds of her sloppy sucking, her hand sliding down your pants and lightly rubbing over that wet spot in your panties - stealing another beautiful whimper from your lips.

"Sevika.. please.." as your hips bucked forward, making her press her fingers harder against you fabric-covered clit. She pulled her mouth from your tits and pushed you back against the desk, hand finally going beneath your panties and sliding over your slit to collect your wetness before rubbing it over your fattened clit. Your moans quickly filled her ears, a beautiful melody for her - her teeth grazing your neck before leaving sloppy kisses in the wake of her lips.

Your hips kept bucking, feeling youreself getting closer cause of her tight circles - suddenly, Sevika stopped, moving her fingers down and easily sliding them into your wetness, curling them upwards to hit that delicious spot deep within you. Your head fell back, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as she sucked hickeys while keeping her fingers in a steady motion.

"V-vika.. ´m close.." Was when she pulled out, smirking down at you. "I think you dont quite deserve cumming, fucking brat. Get back to word." as she spanked your ass playfully, you sulked and gave her puppy eyes. "Come back up here when youre done closing."

That made your eyes light up again, you nodded, getting dressed into the fresh shirt and leaving your ruined on right there on her office floor.. great, having to finish your shift with soaked panties was not how you wanted that night to go, but Sevika knew she was gonna give you a proper reward later.

kessellluvr 10/29/2024

[yoongihan]

Girl Code - HHJ - OneShot

pairing: art professor hyunjin x admin femreader

genre: office au, university au, coworkers to lovers, angst, fluff,

romantic trope: enemies to lovers (I DID MY BEST OKAY?)

word count: ~4k

rating: T (for at least one objectifying comment)

warnings: hyunjin in glasses, with paint streaks on his clothes and person; mc is kinda rude to him; someone is actually a horrible person in this; characters drink but everyone is of age; hyunjin is older (about 28), mc is 24; probably some cursing because it's me and cursing is my native language;

a/n: story #5 in the skz as romantic tropes collab with @jl-micasea-fics. this is a little bit of her fault too as when the magic school photos dropped she mentioned hyunjin as an art professor. i chose this trope (e2l) to challenge myself as it's not my regular jam annnnnnd i don't know if i really did it all that well. i did try. please be kind to this chronic f2l writer. i apologize for any typos or mistakes. i am my own editor.

-----

Pretty Privilege.

It’s not a thing you personally have experienced, to your knowledge. Maybe you have. Maybe once amongst your friend group, you were considered the stand out and someone gave you a pass because they liked the way your eyes are shaped, or how you smile with teeth, or whatever.

You’ll allow that.

But generally, you hate that it even exists. Pretty privilege. Isn’t it enough to get to be pretty in this world? Without the world groveling at your feet and simultaneously pushing any obstacle out of the way for you? 

So when Professor Hwang is hired as the new art professor at the university where you admin, you take an immediate dislike. After, at first, the overwhelming surge of attraction because he truly is the prettiest human you’ve ever seen outside of screen. 

Even when your work friends discuss romance, and when Juhye from the Performative Arts department (she has basically the same job as you, just different department) mentions that she thinks he might be interested in her, you join in that yes, he’s very attractive and seems nice, and of course he’d be a great partner for her.

Even if you kind of hate him. 

And since you admin in the same department as he teaches (Fine Arts, obv), it’s your job (according to your friends and the unspoken rules that you really wish were spoken and written down) that you hype her up when he’s in the vicinity. You have to.

Girl Code: requiring you to promote her, and not be too friendly with him because one does not want to violate Girl Code.

Once in undergrad was enough and you would do anything not to experience that ostracization ever again. 

Unspoken rules that make life more difficult that it already is. You feel very much like you hyping Juhye is as subtle as a truck, and in doing so you are as awkward as well, whatever is very very awkward.

“You locked yourself out again?” You do your best not to hiss at him, but in over one semester of him being on the faculty, the man has locked himself out of his Canvas account at least a dozen times.

Hyunjin, Professor Hwang, as he is to his students, gives you the most sheepish smile, and deep down you acknowledge that it’s cute as hell. This man who could be art himself, looking self-conscious that he can’t be trusted with the basics of technology. 

“I know. I don’t know how I do this.” He shrugs, straightening his wire-rimmed glasses. “Isn’t my laptop supposed to save that info for me, so I never have to try and remember?”

“It is.” You think to offer that he can bring his laptop and you can look to see if Google, or whatever browser he uses (probably like Firefox or something equally horrendous), is saving his passwords, but you don’t. Because it’s not in your job description and: “Juhye’s pretty good at that kind of stuff. I’m sure she could make sure it’s doing that. Saving your passwords, login info.”

He hums in lieu of a response, moving from in front of your desk to behind you to see what you’re doing. He doesn’t ask, which makes you bristle, but you’re not doing anything confidential and he’s not really breaking your personal bubble, so you can’t say anything. 

“I’ve never asked,” he begins as though talking to you while you’re working isn’t annoying. “But I assume, this isn’t what you went to school for. Did you study tech…stuff?”

You’re mildly amused that he doesn’t use the official term ‘computer science’. But just mildly. You can still dislike someone and still find them amusing on occasion. 

“No.”

There’s silence, minus the sounds of your typing and mouse-clicking. 

“What did you study?”

You don’t like lying. It’s not a thing you prefer to do in life. You do, everyone does, but you try avoid it as much as possible. So even though you know this might interest Hyunjin and you know you should not interest him, ever, you tell the truth.

“Photography. I mean, I studied business, too, but mostly photography and mixed media art.”

There’s silence yet again.

“Which is why I’m here. In this department.” The silence has become unbearable. 

“Photography?”

He’s going to ask to see something.

“You good at it?”

You turn to look at him. He seems genuinely curious, not like he’s about to pass judgment. But, he’s hard to read. That perfect face can look very RBF according to Juhye (which she thinks just makes him all the more mysterious and sexy) and even blank which gives you less on which to assess him for. 

His hair pulled back in a ponytail and black textured turtleneck make him seem even more aloof, like the rich pretty boy in an anime. 

“My grades and graduating GPA said I was.” You put very little stock into quantifying art and creativity into numbered grades, but you did graduate well enough to please your parents. 

He rolls his eyes. “Oh okay then.” 

God, he’s annoying. 

“Anyway.” You turn back to your computer. “Everything is reset. Your email has the links to come up with a new password. Try to write it down somewhere, or you know, memorize it.”

“No space,” he replies. “No space for memorizing meaningless words and numbers and symbols.”

“Really? What’s your brain full of then? Creative genius?” You don’t even hide your sarcasm.

He laughs. “I hope so. Mostly just images of all the greats I studied. And then my students and what they do. It’s a photo album that never ends and changes order. Often.”

He’s slipping by you toward the door that leads out of the Fine Arts offices. You stare at him, his words lingering. 

“Thanks again,” he says, halfway through the door. He smiles at you, a small one, a polite ‘this is how we socially interact’ type smile.

It’s still so stupid beautiful. You hate it.

–

At the next day’s lunch, you dutifully let Juhye know about how you encouraged Hyunjin to bring his laptop and technology woes to her and she brightens and preens, and you almost feel like maybe you don’t hate him. 

It’s a small consolation. 

One of the benefits (there are just a few) of working at the school that you attended, in the department you majored in, is use of the facilities. Not whenever you want as the current students and professors get first claim on any studio, extra supplies, or the dark room. 

In two years of working post-undergrad, you’ve learned when the down times, the lesser claimed times were. Certainly not before midterms or finals. Nor right when the semester begins because all the overachievers feel like studio or dark room time will somehow make all the difference. 

But right now, in the in between times, you can book some dark room sessions which encourages you that someday you might ‘make’ it as a professional photographer, that you aren’t losing your skills. 

You’d taken a day to drive up to the nearest mountains to one; soothe your soul with nature (and pollen sadly) and two: take a new set of photos. As with everyone else in the 21st century, you use and manipulate digital photographs as well, but you also do film because it’s its own thing. 

As you turn on the red light bulbs in the darkroom, negatives now fully developed, you smile because film and the process of getting from undeveloped roll of film to tangible photo makes you happy. It’s a comforting process that you can almost do in your sleep. With how late it was when you went to bed last night is a good thing because two cups of coffee is not doing its usual thing. 

There’s a knock on the door of the dark room and your smile immediately drops. 

Damn students (it’s a fruitless grievance because it is their right as they are paying a ridiculous amount for this education, but ugh, it’s annoying to be on the bottom rung of the hierarchy).

“Occupied.”

“I left something in there that I need.”

It’s like every muscle of your body tenses, and every nerve sets alight. 

“Professor Hwang?” Like you need to confirm. 

There’s a pause, like he’s registering your voice before he says your name. 

“Yes, I’ve got the safe lights on, but if you make sure everything is off out there, I can open the door.” Sooner he comes in, the sooner he can leave. 

There’s a low chuckle. “I know the drill.”

You bristle at the patronizing tone.

“Everything is off.”

You open the door and mentally curse him. Even with the lights which you’d considered an unflattering shade of red, he still looks like art. 

Art like a rendition of a fallen angel or romantic vampire with the shadows on his face and red tinge his neck-length brown hair takes on. His glasses are horn-rimmed today, his white shirt pink in the light and sleeves rolled up, black slacks. There are at least three paint smudges on his forearms.

He nods and gives you a polite smile. It’s the most reserved he’s ever been with you, at least since first meeting. You would never describe him as outgoing by any means, but certainly friendly, amiable. He doesn’t hold any of the underlying snobbery of other art professors who have lived so long in the ivory towers of academia and the art world, that any one not well-versed is unworthy of such allowances as kindness or care. 

For all his faults, Hyunjin is not the worst. 

You step back, aware that you are essentially, just staring at him like a moron. He slips in, glances at the negatives out that you’ve just developed.

“Pleased?” he asks as he moves toward the shelves of chemicals and random items (things left and abandoned by years of students and professors - your favorite is a tiny figurine of the black cat from Kiki’s Delivery Service. No one has taken it back, as though left here on purpose by someone in the past six years. He’s the official mascot of this particular dark room and therefore your favorite). 

“Pleased?” you repeat.

“With your work?” He grabs some acrylic paint tubes off the shelf. “What you just developed?”

Now you feel stupid. Obviously that’s what he’s asking about. Not if you’re pleased to see him. That would be stupid. You aren’t. Surely even he can see that.

“Um, not sure.” You return to the film and its small images. You set one image over the projected enlarger so it’s visible to the both of you. It’s not much, a solitary tree, slightly off center in the frame. “Haven’t had a chance to see if it was a total waste of roll or not.”

Even though you don’t look to see him move, you feel him stand slightly behind you to also take in the image. 

You hold your breath for a number of reasons. 

One; because you don’t need to breathe in his cologne which is actually really lovely (so you hate it).

Two; because his nearness is off-putting as he’s not really breaking any social rules by being too close and darkrooms aren’t exactly spacious, but dammit he’s close. 

Three; because you actually want to know what he thinks.

That last one pisses you off the most. You and he don’t dabble in the same medium (he’s painting and drawing; you always stuck with photography, sometimes mixed media) so who is to say his thoughts are at all valuable.

Not that he isn’t skilled. Every professor in the Visual Arts department is, even the ones you dislike the most.

Like him. 

“It’s lonely.”

You flinch at his words, his voice seeming loud in the quiet of the room. 

“Being asymmetrically composed, the tree feels even more out of place and lost.”

You force yourself to continue staring at the project and not turn to see his expression. Because you might show your thoughts and those don’t need to be discoverable by Professor Hwang Hyunjin.

“I like it. Even if it’s a bit out of focus.”

You lean into the projection to see that he is correct. There is a slight blur to the edges, fuck it all. 

You straighten back up. “Intentional.” Not that you moving in and checking it wasn’t a damn giveaway that you are lying like a lying liar, but maybe he’s stupid.

“Ah.”

Maybe a little. Or he lies too. 

“Are you entering any contests or doing a showing?”

Does he truly want to have a normal conversation right now? In the dark room? Alone? When you are working on your own stuff?

You take a few steps away, turning off the projector. 

“I don’t have anything specific in mind. Just keeping a hand in, you know?”

He nods, the shadows lengthening then shortening on his face. “Not that this subject matter is relevant, but you know our theatre department is looking for a photographer? Dr. Kim mentioned it just yesterday.”

“They are?”

“You can do action and work with that type of lighting?”

You work hard not to sneer. “Yes. The photography program here is pretty thorough.”

He shrugs. “I would hope so, though I must admit I know little of Dr. Cha’s work with students. And only the bare essentials of the craft.” He’s smiling, looking far less like a work of untouchable art and more like someone who regularly laughs; at himself and at the absurdity of the world. 

The dried paint on his cheek is wrinkled and breaking with that smile. 

You mentally shake yourself. 

When you don’t say anything, making the silence veer on awkward, he clears his throat. 

“You should apply. I think you’d do well.” He laughs now. It’s silly. “Not that I have much understanding the ins and outs of course, my recommendation is probably worth little.”

“You’d say something?”

“To Kim? Sure.” 

“With one photo?”

He now looks amused. “I’ve seen your instagram, too. Dr. Cha often shares his former and current students’ work and I follow her.” He starts to the door. “I’ll say something.” He holds up the paint tubes. “Thanks for letting me in.”

He opens the door before looking back. “Have a good night.” And disappears through it. 

The room feels strange now. The red hue seems not as striking, and the air carries that hint of piquancy of his cologne.

You do a physical shake of yourself now before returning to make some prints. 

–

When you see Juhye out for drinks with the rest of your compatriots Friday night, you ask her. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about the theatre photographer position?” She works in the Performative Arts department, even updates the website. Of all people, she would be one of the first to know. 

She’s had about two more cocktails than you which means her eyes take several moments to focus on you. You lean against the bar next to her, waiting. 

“Why would I?”

You bite your tongue to retort. “Because I’m a photographer.” 

She wrinkles her nose, saying your name in the most patronizing tone you’ve heard since high school. “They want professionals.”

You jerk back as though she swung a dagger at you. 

But you try again. Because friends. And Girl Code. “I applied though. Would you say something to Dr. Kim please?”

She takes a deep breath that you can hear despite the loud house music pumping in this bar. “Honey,” The sickly sweetness of the condescension makes you want to gag. “We’re friends and all, but I am not risking my name just because you think you can do something like this. Real friends tell each other the truth.”

As she finishes this quasi-sermon, the bartender produces another drink for her, and a receipt to sign. She does, scrawling also her snapchat username. He takes the slip, makes eye contact with her and smirks before moving to another patron. 

“What was that?” you ask, still processing her apparent disregard for your dreams and talent. “I thought you were ‘in love’ with Professor Hwang?” You are petty enough to do finger quotation marks. 

She rolls her eyes and shrugs, already looking past you for the rest of your group. “I am. But wanting a luxury car doesn’t mean that one can’t ride in a station wagon.”

If you’d had more liquor, maybe you could have thrown up on her as you currently feel ill, both disgusted and horrified. 

To equate humans to cars reeks of objectification and lack of seeing someone as a whole person. 

And you might hate Hwang Hyunjin, but you know he’s more than just a beautiful (on the surface) man. 

Juhye slips by you to find the others as you realize how incredibly shit of a friend she is. Of a person. In fact, you turn to stare at her back in astonishment because you thought you were good at reading people, at sifting through the kinds of people you want to surround yourself with. Juhye has never been someone you were incredibly close to, but you thought she was decent, even if her taste in men was lacking.

“I didn’t know you came here.”

As though your life is a full-on drama, you turn back to see that in her place is Hyunjin. He’s got a martini glass in hand, the liquid a vibrant green. 

“Rarely,” you answer tonelessly, your brain still trying to understand the revelations of the last five minutes. You nod to his drink. “What’s that?”

He grins, alcohol having warmed his smile. “Appletini.”

A surprised laugh exits your mouth before you realize it. You assumed he’d probably drink something like fancy single malt scotch or absinthe (the green). Here he is, this impressive and young art professor, one who has had an extolled art showing in the last year (you might have researched him some when you realized how much you hated him), drinking the equivalent of Apple Jacks in a martini glass. 

His smile is a little cute.

He isn’t wearing glasses right now, which is a shame, but his t-shirt and jeans give him less of that art prof vibe, and more of the cute guy you meet at a bar. 

“Good?” you ask, finding yourself bewildered and amused.

He nods emphatically, offering it to you as though you’re friends who share.

You shake your head, even though you sort of want to. 

“Thank you. I should go.” It might be the lighting, but he looks way too cozy with his hair tucked behind his ears, the wind from outside making it tousled. 

You look around to see Juhye and several of your friends over at a booth. They are watching with piercing eyes. 

Juhye whispers to another.

You feel it. The momentary terror of doing something wrong, the violation of the code in talking to your friend’s crush.

“Before you do.” He sets down his drink, inching a bit closer to you. “I talked to Dr. Kim. About the job? I can’t say for sure, but I think he was definitely looking forward to talking with you about it. I showed him your series with the cyclists by the Han River, from your insta. One of my favorites of yours.” 

You feel your eyes itch all of a sudden, a sudden tightness in your throat. You force back the tears that threaten. 

“I…thank you.”

His smile gets even bigger, his eyes nearly squeezed shut in his joy. 

You need to go. Like now. 

“Of course. What are friends for? Or at least, coworkers.” He giggles. 

Friends. The spike of anxiety lessens. Because you know what real friendship is. And it’s not in whispers and unspoken rules and carelessness. 

It’s thoughtfulness, it’s giving without asking for anything back. 

“If you get the job, I expect you to buy me a drink.” His playful words make you tense all the more, because you see it. You see how kind he is.

He sees you.

“I’m kidding,” he says almost as quickly. “I just–”

“I know.” You meet his eyes and smile though you imagine it’s more teary than warm right now. “I’ll definitely buy you another appletini if I get it.”

There’s no RBF right now. Only sparkling eyes, turned up lips, and kindness. 

And you need to go.

“Sure. Um, bye.” You race out of there like being chased by a supervillain. 

–

It’s the end of the school year, and even though you still work during the summer (a lowly admin’s job is never done), you feel the excitement.

Because you’re changing departments. After photographing and doing promotional shots of the university’s spring musical, Dr. Kim wants you on staff full-time, to capture all of the Performative Arts department; the classes, the productions, even the silly open mics that the students and professors do every month. The website, the newsletter, the alumni magazine; all have a credit of yours by the time May ends. 

You feel like maybe you haven’t been treading aimlessly post-university as much as you thought. 

“So,” Hyunjin says, before taking a sip of his luminescent green cocktail. He leans on his elbows across from you. “We aren’t in the same department any more.” There’s a pout at the end, a small, silly thing that makes you roll your eyes, but deep down, you think it’s (he) is adorable. 

“I know. You’ll have to bug someone new when you forget your password. Again.”

His pout doesn’t leave. “They might be nicer to me.”

In the months that followed that night at the bar, you decided to apologize to him. It was in his office, when he was sorting through papers and you were nearly on your way home for the day. You had succeeded in avoiding Juhye and him for three days when you got the email from Dr. Kim for a quick interview. 

So you stopped by to thank him, then apologize for being rude.

“You hated me? Huh. I thought you were just kind of grumpy. It’s cute.”

To say you were simultaneously both flattered and outraged (he’d not even been offended, once?) would be understatement. 

He likes to tease you about it now.

“But to go back to my original thought,” he continues, reaching out to steal a fry from your plate. “No longer in the same department. We’ll have to try and see each other instead of just happening to run into each other.” He raises one eyebrow at you.

“Yeah. Ugh, are you a clingy friend?”

“Not really.” He pauses, taking another drink before setting it back down. “I am…a little bit of a clingy boyfriend.” 

You’re holding your breath again. 

You can acknowledge that you and Hyunjin aren’t just coworkers, he’s not your enemy (if he ever was) anymore. You’re definitely more friends with him than anyone else from work (you’ve pulled away from Juhye and her little group and honestly, you don’t miss them). 

Being friends, being friendly and open with Hyunjin has its own drawbacks because now you have to contend with how lovely a person he is; how talented, funny, goofy, and compassionate. Which makes it difficult. When you hated him, he was easy to keep at a distance.

Now that you like him, you might really like him.

“Uh, we aren’t dating.”

“What do you call this?” he asks, nonplussed that he’s brought up your entire relationship as a topic of conversation, as though you’re discussing the weather, or the latest student’s project. He points at your mostly empty plates, his martini glass, your half-full gin and tonic. Then he points at you and then himself.

“I’m paying though.” Spring in academia is a sprint to the finish and though he’d been joking about you owing him a drink if you got the job, you are currently owning up to it now that the semester is over. 

“So? Is it only a date if I pay?” He tsks at you. “I thought you were a feminist.”

Your glare doesn’t have the same bite as it used to. It’s too fond. 

“This is a date?”

He leans across the table, adjusting his glasses as though it’ll help him see you better. Even with familiarity, you still feel a bit overwhelmed by him. 

“I want it to be.”

There is no policy about coworkers dating at your university, just that professionality reigns at the school. There is no reason why you and Hyunjin cannot date. Even though you often feel like professors are on another level compared to the administration. 

He’s not even that much older than you. 

Perhaps it’s remnants of being so worried that you might break ‘Girl Code’ if you’re at all nice to him because of Juhye’s ‘claim’ that you are hesitant. Maybe you need to acknowledge that he is so much more than what you or Juhye reduced him to in the beginning.

Maybe you realize that you have been ‘dating’ him awhile without even comprehending it.

Maybe you also lean across the table, letting your lips brush against his stunning ones (if you painted like him, those lips would probably show up in a piece) and hear his soft exhale as though he relaxes. Because he realizes it too.

You like each other. A lot. 

His soft kiss in return gives you actual heart flutters.

“I guess I don’t mind a clingy boyfriend. Especially one who is still marked with paint on a date.” You point to the streak of white at his jaw. 

He takes your hand in his, gaze dropping to look at his drink, but his smile can’t be hidden.

“Good.”

---

(c) yoongihan 2024. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans.

[gaysindistress]

What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man? - part two

a/n: I know John isn’t American but I kept picturing him as Joe from SIX and honety Gibs from NCIS and I couldn’t stop myself. I sincerely apologize that this John is American-grumpy-hot-military-older man coded (not really). Also I know it took a month and I’m so sorry 🙈 I got so busy at work but it’s here! Enjoy!!

Warnings: smutty smut smut, phone sex

non-mcu masterlist

part one

Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @calicocat45 @whos-fran @vonev @yyiikes

The situation at hand is tricky to say the least. Waiting around and trying to be careful of everyone’s feelings will push you away. On the other hand, he’s wanted to show you the love that you deserve and now is his chance.

Fuck Simon.

Fuck him for treating you like a safety net and like you’re replaceable. Fuck him for letting you shoulder the burden of your relationship and expecting you to always be at his beck and call. Fuck him for lying to you instead of having the balls to just be honest about why he wanted to break up. Fuck Simon Riley for saying that you could find a better man and expecting you to not listen to him for once.

“I want a lot of things,” he starts and takes a moment to choose his words, “I might be a gentleman but I’m a selfish man. I won’t take what’s not offered but you’d be hell bent to find me sharing my life with others. If you say that it’s over and mean it, well then love, I’ll be the most selfish man you’ve ever met when it comes to you. Im not some young lad anymore; I’m settled in my life and now that things are stable I want someone to share it with. I’ll follow your lead when it comes to how we share it but just know that I don’t want something casual or even friendship.”

You’re still resting your chin on his shoulder, listening to his every word as hope begins to fill your eyes. It’s the last sentence he whispers as he gazes down at you that causes your breath to hitch;

“I’ll love you until my lungs give out.”

And this man Delivers. The capital d is not a typo. John Price understands that you’re an independent person and he respects that. That’s not to say that he doesn’t spoil the absolute shit out of you and ensures that you are happy in every facet of your life imaginable.

The dogs are being wild today and overwhelming you? As soon as he gets home, he’s taking them out on a walk and giving you instructions to go have yourself a nice hot bath. Dinner is already taken care of so no need to worry about that. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the quiet.

He’s been on deployment for a couple weeks and the loneliness is starting to creep in? You will be getting at least two check in texts a day and a call or FaceTime if he can before you go to bed. You should also expect some sort of care package to be on your doorstep weekly. This could be anything from flowers to your whole ass Amazon cart, all you need to do is say you miss him and he’s got you covered.

Things have been a little tense between the two of you? Well get ready because you’re going to be doing a check in that night where the two of you talk about whatever is going on. If it’s something small like you’re both stressed from work and a weekend getaway is needed, he’s already got that planned. If it’s something that needs more work, he’s ready to dive right into it and figure it out.

Still true to his internal word, nothing physical happens between you two at first. He wanted desperately to kiss you when he told you he would love you until his last breath but he didn’t. Disgusted by the enormity of his craving for you, John vowed to wait until you asked for his physical affection. Of course this meant he wouldn’t give into any of your advances until you told what you wanted.

After that night, you began the long and arduous process of breaking down John’s resolve. While it may have been unspoken, you knew what he wanted but you weren’t going to give into him so quickly. It started with closing the distance between you two. Instead of sitting on opposite ends of the couch, you’d lay your feet in his lap or move just close enough to trail your fingers over the back of his hand. Only would you move to sit beside him if he slung his thick arm over the couch’s back and beckoned you closer. Then you would take every opportunity possible to cuddle into his side and slyly skirt your hands across the waistband of his sweats when you wrapped your arms around him. If you were in the kitchen together, you were always just out of his grasp. His fingers could grasp at the back of your shirt but never fully grab you. You’d swiftly slip around him if he moved behind you but not before brushing your hands over him in some way.

Eventually you grew bolder and began to shower with the door propped open. You’d said it was so the dogs could still see you but John isn’t stupid. He knew that you wanted him to catch a glimpse of your body through the foggy glass doors. But here’s the thing; he’s not Simon. Simon would’ve joined you and fucked you on that glass door like your life depended on it but not a captain price.

No no no. John Price is going to make you say those three little words, ‘I want you’, before he touches you even if it means leaving on for a mission without so much as a chaste peck on the lips. No amount of sly looks and sneaky touches is going to convince this man to give into you.

He starts beating you at your own game though. his bedroom door is suddenly always cracked open making it so that you can hear every rumbling moan and gasp of your name when he fists his cock at night. You no longer feel the waistband of his underwear when you wrap your arms around his am waist during your cuddles. Instead your fingers find the thick trail of hair that disappears under his sweatpants. Speaking of which, John knows about grey sweat pants and he exploits that turn on every chance he gets. Soon it goes from just wearing them low on his hips to forgoing boxers (as mentioned above) and sometimes he even ‘forgets’ his shirt. The memory of his thick bare chest on display alone is enough to make you clench your legs together.

When he finally does have to leave for work, he presses a light kiss to your temple and tells you to be careful. It goes without saying but John makes your promise anyways. Eases his old heart as he likes to say. If only he would go easy on yours…

Nearly every photo, FaceTime, what have you, this man is bare chested with lidded eyes and a knowing smirk on his face. He knows that you’re frustrated with the way things have played out; namely his departure with no memorable moments. He’s already become an expert in you, knowing what your body langue means, what your blushes mean, and most importantly, what your words truly mean.

Probably about a month in to this mission is when it comes to a climax. Your hands were doing nothing to ease the ache between your legs and your toys were making it worse. It was as if your body knew that it was you instead John rubbing small circles into your clit late at night. You’d tried nearly everything you could think of aside from finding someone in a pub and telling the older captain about your dilemma. While you two weren’t anything more than roommates with feelings at this point, it still felt wrong to find someone else to help you out. With only one person that your body wanted and nothing you could do about it, you settled for being sexually frustrated and irritable.

John is finally able to get some alone time to call you and actually talk to you. Settled into some poor excuse for a cot, he makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to pick up. It makes maybe a few rings before your tight voice comes through with a short ‘hello?’

He wants to chuckle and fails to suppress it, “Well hello to you too, love.”

Immediately you sigh when you recognize his voice, “oh John it’s you. How are you?”

“Been better. What’s been going on with you?”

You let out another deep sigh, pausing to answer as you contemplate what to tell him.

“What is it, love? Something bothering you?”

“I…I’m just….im just irritable,” you attempt to pass off as the full truth but John knows you better than that.

“Irritable you say?”

You can hear him shuffle around on his end and it causes your legs to cross to even think about him. God it’s beyond annoying to be this turned on over just hearing him move around, let alone hear his voice right now.

“I’d say a relaxing day is in order,” he teases with a low pitched sultry tone, “find some relief in a massage maybe.”

Relief.

The word feels hot as it washes over your brain and invokes images that would make a nun curse under her breath.

You snort at his suggestion. In that small noise, he finds all the answers he needed; you’re about to break and murmur those three sweet words.

“No appeal to that, love?” He asks and you can just hear the smirk he’s wearing. “A massage isn’t the relief you’re looking for though is it? You need a different type of relief, isn’t that right love?”

That bastard.

You hear him shuffle again and you swear to god you hear the sound of a belt coming undone.

“Talk to me. Tell me how I can help.”

If you weren’t needy before, you must certainly are now. You feel pathetic, a bitch in heat with the way your body starts to react to his simple words. Practically mumbling you attempt to tell him to fuck off but it doesn’t sting as much as you’d hoped. John laughs off your feeble attempt at hiding the true reason you’re in a mood.

Instead of adding flame to fire, he stays quiet.

It takes 40 agonizing seconds of silence for you to groan his name out of frustration. The captain only hums his acknowledgment that you spoke.

Phone sex isn’t new to you by any means however there’s something about this time that causes you to falter. There’s something about the way he initiated it but is allowing you to lead where it goes. There’s something about the way he knew what you needed within seconds. There’s something about the way your body seems to know that it craves his without ever touching.

“Yes,” you mumble while your cheeks burn and your body sings at the thought of getting what it truly desires.

John chuckles under his breath and the sardonic sounds causes your eyes to squeeze shut.

“Be a good girl for me and slip your hand into your panties.”

Your hearing dulls to a muffled tone as your hand follows his instructions. Barely does your ears register the sound of skin on skin, a slick hand taunting an impossibly hard cock. Your name comes out as a groan when you tell him to continue.

“Fuuckkk, love. Tell me are ya wet?”

“S…soaked.” You sigh as you roll your clit with your fingertips.

He lets out a string of curses as his hips buck up into his hand and his cock throbs from his slow pace.

“I want you to keep rubbing your clit and fuck yourself with your fingers,” the captain orders you, “and dont try to hide any of those pretty sounds.”

You mumble a weak ‘okay’ as you work your clit in small circles, feeling yourself become even more wet.

Strings of curses fall from his lips as he listens to your desperate cries of pleasure. The sounds of his thrusts get louder and louder in time when you bury two fingers in and become to fuck yourself like he told you to. It feels better than all of your other attempts but it’s not enough.

Nothing will be enough until you can feel John’s cock deep inside of you. Until you can feel his hips rut against yours and his hoarse moans in your ear. Until you feel the burn that his facial hair will give you when he eats you out like a starved and neglected dog. Until you feel his warm speed leak from you after he’s worked you through several of your own orgasms.

The thoughts of what is to come push you over the edge and you moan out his name in an absolutely pornographic manner. It stirs something disgustingly powerful and sinful deep in his gut when he hears it. He can only imagine the beautiful display of pleasure and bliss that you’ve come as you lay panting post orgasm.

You can only imagine how stunning he looks with his sweats pulled down to his mid thigh, his bare chest rapidly rising and falling while his stomach is painted with his own cum.

“John?” You whisper after your breathing has returned to normal(ish). “When are you coming home?”

His lips turn up in a smirk at your word choice, “missing me more than you let on, now are ya love?”

“Yeah it’s lonely without you here. you can’t leave on another deployment like this without fucking me before.”

“I promise it won’t happen again, my love.”

[beiasluv]

forbidden fruit pt.2 | charles leclerc

part 1

a/n: i wrote last part at like midnight, apologies for any typos 💀 enjoyy 🤍

‘y/n l/n and charles leclerc. forbidden love, rival or lovers?’

front line mercedes driver, l/n, and the ferrari driver, leclerc, had been seen having a conversation together before the grand prix in italy…

“y/n, question for you please.”

the conference room. same old same old. lewis, you, and george were seated together in front of thousands of lenses, ready to pick each and every length of your skin just to get a piece of information they could sell to the media.

it was the day before the big race in italy, the media was catching their eyes closely at all the drivers - especially you know which two.

“..yes?”

“about the incident after the qualifying round, what had happened with charles?”

the clicking of the pens and the scratching of the notebooks were starting to get you any minute. clearing your throat you grabbed the mic closer to your mouth,

“i’m sure charles meant no harm..we’re racers..erm…rivalry isn’t the furthest thing from us.”

“are you dating charles, y/n?”

alarms were set off in your mind. it would be a crime if george and lewis couldn’t hear them. you were nothing with charles leclerc. he’s the reddest flag of all. really. you were nothing.

"we," clearing your throat and grabbing your mic closer to your dry lips. "we're not talking on any terms."

smile, y/n. smile for the cameras.

"what are your thoughts on the ferrari team this season? any comments?"

the journalist raised his hands through the crowd, his pen almost fell off his lap from the enthusiasm.

"it was always a challenge to race with any team on the track, ferrari included," you nodded. "the ferrari has a strong car, they are one of the many tough contenders. obviously, every team wishes to win...and so does mercedes," glancing a tight smile at the interviewer who took the answer down the notebook. perhaps a little bit too messy for your driver's head to decipher.

"how about when leclerc saved you? any additional comment?"

"i.."

you caught lewis shifting in his seat; his hands started to calm up together in front of the mic, seated between the three drivers and the whole internet. you could only pray your zoning out was missed by the media and you know who.

if only you could express your infinite pain of being the only female in the male-dominant sport, no paper could ever hold just a nick of the feminine rage pregnant inside you.

how come the only question you got asked was about 'charles,' 'men,' 'dating' and never the sophisticated 'performance car racing' or the ones filled with personalities?

george russell, for the record, your biggest shipper, even chipped in. he pushed the mic closer to his face and looked dead into the camera - if looks could kill - "please, this is a mercedes drivers' briefing."

the tension is sky-high, or you could say: rocket-sky-high. george settled back in his seat as you threw him a quick thankful smile. only god knows what the media is going to make up this time.

'george to the rescue'? bullshit.

"lewis, over here please."

--

"y/n, leclerc's getting aggressive. be careful for an overtake-"

"copy-"

the adrenaline is rushing, flowing, and doing whatever the heck it can in your bloodstream. pushing the pedal as hard as your baby could possibly could, the wind rushed against your face. if it wasn't for the helmet you had on, your face would've been cut like it were a thousand knives thrown at you.

looking to your right you see the infamous red ferrari again, surging with the wind and springing out against the green grass beside the track.

"leave space! you fucking-" you muttered as your fingers tick all the necessary buttons of the formula 1 car in order to keep your position above the ferrari. "what the fuck is he doing!"

praying the car tires could take a bit more, you applied as much pressure you felt comfortable on your baby for the first place behind the checkered end line. you glanced at the body behind the mask of the helmet as you continued to push and pray, push and pray.

if only you knew the ferrari was reciprocating the act.

what was important was you finishing above leclerc - mercedes finishing above ferrari, of course.

"leclerc! y/n! leclerc! who's going to win?! would he complete the overtake?!"

holding on to your steering wheel for your dear life, you saw something of a maroon color rushing to your side. perhaps it was the speed of the car that distorted your vision or was it something in your cheeks?

shut up-

"leclerc! leclerc! leclerc! ferrari have gained another victory home! ladies and gentlemen, charles leclerc!"

"fuck!"

the cracking sound from your radio chimed in your ears - at the worst time possible - "y/n! 0.02 second behind leclerc! P2!"

yeah, thanks. thanks for rubbing it in your face that leclerc had beaten you once again.

"..thanks," slowing your car down against the wind, you came to a halt after the race line; obviously at a considerable distance behind the red ferrari. climbing out and plastering on a fake smile for the media and your beloved fans.

--

the monégasques national anthem was blasted through the speaker throughout the whole podium. any fan knew this song belonged to any of the leclerc and ferrari, for now.

holding your hands in the comfort of in front of you, you tried to remain calm throughout the whole song. nevertheless, your heartbeat was beating fast for the obvious reason after the race.

the shit-eating grin was plastered on the driver standing on P1. can you even blame him? congratulations, you had beaten your rival for the longest time and were placed on P1 while wearing your infamous red suit.

while you were wearing your notorious mercedes's fire suit on your waist, just like all the drivers on the grid (and charles), you grabbed the champagne bottle as the others did so.

"good one, leclerc.”

you sprayed the champagne straight onto the monégasques’s back, maybe it was a little intentional that you shook the bottle a little harder for more pressure of the liquor.

no hard feelings, of course. you only knew his hair was soaked under the cap on his head and the tingling of the bubbles down his neck.

how unfortunate.

charles smirked back as he aimed his half-empty champagne bottle at you, "it's still not a date."

what.?

seeing you in your stunned state, he lowered the bottle to an acceptable level. leclerc cleared his throat and wiped the foam of champagne off his upper lips and chin; looking back with the biggest annoying grin on his face, "congrats on the podium. next race?"

oh, how you wish you could smack his grin off his mother fucking face again. rubbing it into your face.

the media..the media. breathe in, breathe out.

"will do, 16."

--

"congratulations on P2,"

toto patted your back as he entered the mercedes's headquarters. how lovely it is to see his drivers bundled up in his room, once again, after a race 'gone wrong.'

"what is it this time," he sighed as he lowered himself to his chair, not ready to be resigning the team principal position for a therapist for his driver.

the room was your comfort zone, safe to say. the picture of toto's kid, susie, and all of his essentials to complete the job for a team principal. crashing into his room with george wasn't an abnormal thing in your team, nor was it the first time of your career with him.

"they kept asking if you're dating charles, huh?" toto grinned as he faked wipe his mouth for the dramatic effect.

"i'm sick of it-"

the environment of the room shifted - for the better, surprisingly. also. did you mention the fact that this room felt more like a therapy session than a team principal's room?

and. wikipedia got it wrong, it was: toto wolff, team principal and CEO of mercedes, and a part-time therapist.

perfect.

"i'm sure we've put on a great fight," toto nodded towards you, the unspoken tension of the media was killing you inside out.

"i'm sick of the media, toto-"

george shifted next to you on the black sofa, "who knows, they're just trying to write a story out of nothing."

"it'll be the death of me if I have to continuously declare my love life on the internet," resting your head back on the back of the couch you did.

the coldness in the room was cleared by a bit as george snaked his arm around the back of the couch, he whispered into your ear, "you don't have a thing for charles..do you?"

"i hate you."

--

"night, toto. night, george."

bidding toto and george goodbyes, you grabbed your bag from the floor and beeline for the exit door.

the hotel bed is calling your name like a mantra at this point. the race was mentally and physically exhausting, what could be better than a nice, warm bath and a soft bed waiting for you?

the sky was pitch black, darker than your deepest thoughts in solitary, but the pitch was never dark. thanks to the eyes-scorching light to illuminate the track during the night races.

“sup lando..sup daniel”

“good race, l/n.”

walking past a couple of drivers, quick and friendly nods were exchanged as you head for the garage for your beloved mercedes.

and for the love of god, the eyes of the ferrari next to your mercedes were ignited.

how could this get even better?

making your way into the garage, you tried to be as quiet as you possibly could. digging in your purse for the key was a painful ride to ride.

'ah, found it.'

your fingertip dug into the muscle memory as you press the button you hoped was coded with 'unlock.'

fuck.

how gracious of mercedes to make the unlocking sound so loud. so loud that it caught the attention of the ferrari driver. so loud that leclerc's neck flicked towards the sound of your car and you swore you could feel his grin growing.

the second slowed down by a quarter as you seized the handle for the door and swung your bag and body inside the car. perhaps it was not fast enough for the P1 winner today as he made his way next to your car before you could even shut the door. ignoring his steps as he teasingly walked over to his ferrari and played with the key in his hand.

"you put up a great fight for the first place," he grinned. "next time.." he opened his ferrari,

“eyes on the track, l/n.”

"how-...don't you worry about it, leclerc," you scoffed, hiding the beating of your heart. fucking hell- stop beating so fast-

raising his eyebrows in one quick, swift motion, he entered his ferrari, "of course." the driver was fully engulfed by the shadows of the vertical door, but his eyes were still looking into yours, "nice drive today."

"you too."

--

your phone screen screamed it was 2 in the morning, but who cares? the tiktok on your phone was a little more entertaining than seeing charles off the track - okay, maybe a lot less - but the thing so addicting about tiktok was a life mystery for you.

curling up to your side, your phone was plugged into the wall next to your bed, your hand starting to get numb from holding your phone for too long.

asmr. f1 edit. asmr. f1 edit. asmr. f1 edit. you were going to go mad. for the love of anyone, if you see one more edit of charles leclerc on your fyp, you are going to throw your phone out-

honestly, you wouldn't lie that you enjoy an edit of yours once in a while, but hell, charles leclerc..fucking leclerc...who told him that he can look so fucking fine after a horrible race from the ferrari?

you were almost tempted to slam your phone on the nightstand and get some sleep for the night. also. who cares if you wake up late tomorrow?

knock..knock

"oh, come on," you cursed. the audacity to knock at 2 in the morning?

you swung yourself off the comfort of your hotel bed and tiptoed towards the door of your room. your pajama short and oversized t did not help with providing the necessary warmth.

peaking through the cat-eye, you saw the last thing you were expecting.

charles leclerc, in the flesh. he was leaning one of his arms on your door as he was about to raise his hand for another knock.

"gasly! open the door-"

"have a problem, leclerc?"

gosh, you wished you could take a pic of how terrified he looked. shit. was he looking at the unbearable state of yours, or what? short shorts, oversized t, and your hair-

"y/n- i'm-"

squinting your eyes, you adjusted to the light of the hallway, "gasly's not here."

silence engulfed the air between you like a buffet. he continued to stare blankly at you. gosh- could he stop with his dark, green, eyes- fuck. "…leclerc?"

was it the tension or your ears going deaf - you weren't sure - that made you couldn't even hear his - probably lame - excuse of why he knocked at your door at 2 in the fucking morning.

what did matter was the blabbering of his mouth traveled through one ear and straight to the other, just like an f1 car, speeding on any straight path-

"-i think i'm fucking in love with you"

"charles...don't."

charles stopped - his breathing, his steps, his brain, and whatever he could be conscious of. you started - started leaning onto the door, started clutching the other hand to the door blocking the other half of your heart from his.

"what d'you mean 'don't'?" leclerc's mouth was gaped, letting the least amount of air in to keep his heart beating - for you.

retracting your hand, and the door, away from him; you still found his hand in the comfort of over yours, the one that you held onto the door to not fall onto the wooden floor of your hotel room.

every breath you took was a sharp nick on your lungs, but you've managed to heaped out, "i'm sorry, charles-" just in time before your lungs would betray you.

"why?...why?...please-"

"why? -really? why?"

finally regaining the willpower to look back at him, and not cry, you were greeted with his reddened eyes, "what the fuck do you want with me-?"

"you- you could go around and tell me all these nice things in front of my face and- and god knows what you've been calling me behind my back-"

his grip on your hands tightened as he opened his mouth again, but you cut him short- "it drives me crazy- fucking crazy that you act all so nice to me when we've fought our whole lives against each other."

"...what ever happened to all of your loathing glares when i'm on the podium?"

who cares what the sleeping people, ghosts, or whoever the fuck on this floor hears. you were done with cradling your heart as far away as you could from the pitch. it was stupid. fucking humiliating, at least, that you've found yourself back - back at the start.

all the effort to fight for your place on the grid as the only female driver and all of your effort to carry your dignity above all the scandals came crashing down just for a second of your selfish desires. was it so bad to want love from someone who really cares for you all your life?

dancing, kissing, crying, loving. was it so hard to deny when it is literally in front of your fucking face? under the reddest flag of all.

you wished and prayed every day that the races would be over soon so you could stop seeing his shit-eating grin, his eyes, his remarks, his cologne filling the air whenever he walked past.

charles stood in silence, unmoving, as if the time had stopped. if only you knew he was trying- trying to find the right word to express this weird sensation in his brain, his chest, his fucking heart. they all just ended up tangled in italian, frech, and english. mon amour. my life-

"..is that how you really think of me-" he felt slightly betrayed by his wrong tone, but even more by your thoughts.

"you think- y/n- you think i'm just trying to tick you off the podium?"

"..are you?" wiping the tears that betrayed you and escaped from the comfort of your eyes. "look- look at all the headlines- 'mercedes and ferrari.' is this really the- the condition you want to love under?"

"i'll love you under any condition i want," he breathed shakily as he continued to hold the door of your room open. who cares about the ruffled sheet you left or your phone uncharged by the bed?

"there's nothing between us-"

"you have a girlfriend for fuck's sake!"

"it's a PR relationship! and who cares what the media thinks? i'm not doing ferrari any good by confessing my heart raw to you-"

"you think mercedes is getting anything out of this but rumors? i've fought the press for all my fucking life from the scandals inside the pit-"

"this isn't about mercedes, and this isn't about the goddamn media-”

charles ran his hand through his messed up hair, "and I would have thought you knew that..."

"maybe- maybe i don't. maybe i'm too scared to love again. maybe i'm too scared of what would happen if we ended on a bad note. maybe i'm a coward for not wanting to open my heart for you.

-maybe i'm stupid...for you"

"you're not stupid," he said- decreasing the gap between you two, trying his hardest not to reach to wipe your tears.

"we won't work out," you sighed. "we'll focus on our drives, we'll fight, you'll leave."

"please," charles grabbed your waist and pulled you in, once again - you gave in. "i'll make it work."

all your walls came crumbling down as you broke down like a dam on his shoulder. you buried your face onto his chest and gripped his shirt until you didn't care it would crease. a mantra of apologies came out of charles's mouth that you wouldn't even waste an energy to decipher.

his hands found their natural comfort in your lower back, rubbing in lines of traces and tracks you'd spend the rest of your life trying to decipher.

tucking a piece of your hair behind, he kissed all of your tears away. his mustache which had grown since the karting days grazed your skin like they were made for each other. his cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling too much like an idiot in front of your hotel room..106.

you were still gripping his shirt hard, as he closed the space between your lips and his. it seemed like all of your walls were crushed to the point of no returning; towering over you, he pressed his body against yours like there was no more- like the last lap of the race.

the level of oxygen in your lungs was starting to set off an alarm in your head, but you didn't care. you were kissing the reddest flag of all in the grid and you were not regretting anything.

pulling away for air, he smiled against your lips; sending a wave of breath onto your chin.

"you have a lot to explain to toto."

"i'll have my ways..."

oh my goodnesss. if you like it, please do whatever you want to, I’ll appreciate it 🫶🏻

today’s a great day to take care of yourself, luvv 🤍

tag: @leclerclvr @buendiabebeta @be-your-coffee-pot @al-luvx

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 7

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +3.7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), P in V, oral (male receiving), Dom!Terry, breeding kink, spanking, bondage, degradation, rough sex, slight fluff at the end

A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 4 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 5 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 6 => 🦋

*Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

“Get up!” Terry said grabbing my arm. “Ow!” I whined. “Shut the fuck up! You gone have something to cry for soon,” he said looking down at me. We were chest to chest, and the side of my hip was pressed against the dining table. The sexual tension was becoming more and more unbearable as Terry's eyes burned into mine. “Just remember I love you, kitten,” he said leaning into my ear. His gaze darkened with lust and became penetrating and menacing.

It was as if Terry could see right through me. I fiddled with my hands while my gaze fell to the ground. “What's wrong, kitten? Are you nervous? Huh?” he asked lifting my chin to meet his gaze. I looked away quickly. I was unsure of how to answer that. I was slightly nervous but wasn't about to let him know.

“No, sir,” I said locking eyes with him. “Good. I don't want you to be nervous.— I want you to be fuckin' terrified,” he said pushing me onto the kitchen table, so I was flat on my back. He leaned over me and snatched the tie from the curtains. “Don't fuckin' move!” he yelled as he grabbed my hands. He tied the rope around my wrists with my palms together.

Terry’s hands moved through the side slit of my dress. Locating my panties, I felt his fingers loop around the seat of the fabric. “Y’know… I honestly don't understand why you still wear’em. I’m just gonna rip… them off!” he said snatching them from my body. The sound of the fabric ripping was deafening as it coursed through my eardrums. The kitchen table slammed into the wall forcefully.

The level of excitement and arousal I was experiencing was astronomical. I couldn't think of anything that would ever top this. His dick hadn't even touched me yet, and I was losing my mind. The heightened intensity of Terry's aggression was animalistic in nature, provoking a craving I had never felt. My heart was pounding, my skin was tingling, and my pussy was throbbing uncontrollably. He was tha much closer to fully unleashing the fervid beast within him. I was really about to let this man do whatever the fuck he wanted to me— no holds barred.

Before I could react, I was tossed over Terry’s shoulder. His arm looped around my waist as he carried me with no effort. My bound hands were hitting the back of Terry’s legs as he ascended the stairs. “Terry!” I whimpered. “Ye… What did you just call me?” Terry snapped as his movements ceased. We were positioned at the top of the stairs.

“That's not my name. You know better,” Terry said placing me on my feet before him. I staggered before regaining my balance. “Sorry— ,” I said taking a deep breath. “So, you're gonna refuse to say it? Is that what we're doing? Oh, I hope you know… I honestly do. You're asking for it, baby!” Terry said stepping closer to me. “I don't deserve respect. Is that what your tellin' me? You don't respect me?” Terry asked grabbing my chin. “Look at me when I'm talkin' to you!” Terry yelled. “Sorry—. Sorry, Daddy. I won't do it again,” I said looking Terry directly in the eyes. “Oh, that's not gonna work. On your knees, then apologize!” Terry said snapping at the floor. From that move alone, I didn't know whether I was shocked, offended, or turned on.

I looked down at the floor. I balanced my hands in front of me before slowly getting on my knees. I rested my weight on my calves and held my hands in my lap. “I'm sorry, Daddy. Forgive me for not calling you by your proper name,” I said letting my gaze linger on Terry's feet. “Unfortunately, apologies mean nothing to me. Actions speak louder than words. Let's go!” Terry said snatching me up by my arm.

He pulled me towards the open door of the master bedroom. He was practically dragging me in. He turned towards me and looped his arm around my waist., pushing me towards the bed. I sat at the foot of the bed and anxiously watched Terry's every move. He leaned over me, bringing his mouth to my ear. His hands fumbled with the knots that secured the rope around my wrists. “Strip,” he rumbled through gritted teeth.

I flexed my freed wrists as I slowly pushed the top of my dress down. The fabric bundled up around my hips like a cloud. Terry's eyes fell to my breasts. I lifted my hips to push the dress off and onto the floor. “This is your last chance to back out. Whatchu gone do, huh? I'm not gonna force you. If you're scared, let me know now,” he said standing to his full height. I held my breath as I struggled to formulate an answer. Unfortunately for me, my mouth was still in brat mode.

“Do I look scared? Or, are you just too weak to finish what you started? Don't use me as an excuse,” I said looking under my lashes at Terry. His stance stiffened as he began clenching and unclenching his fists. I watched his hands intently. I knew he wanted to hem my thick ass up.

Terry's face was obscure of emotions, almost indecipherable. I couldn't tell if he was pissed or impressed. He closed his eyes slowly and released a silent breath. His head rolled on his shoulders as if he was loosening up. I pulled my legs under me and began scooting back on the bed. Yeah, I fucked up. Terry's eyes opened and his irises had darkened to bronze. Shit! A menacing smirk spread across his face. All pretenses of softness and kindness were no longer present. “Terry” was gone.

Terry walked away and stepped into the closet. I could hear him searching through bags. He reappeared with two sets of handcuffs. Without saying a word, he used one hand and grabbed both of mine. He pulled me by arms and up to the headboard. He leaned over me and handcuffed me to it. Each hand outstretched away from me and restricting my movements. Terry pulled my body up slightly so my back was against the headboard. I was positioned in a t-pose.

He stood up beside the bed, looking down at me. “You look so pretty when you're scared, Mama. Too fuckin' pretty, honestly. Those lips, eyes, and this body do something to me. Something so carnal that I don't think I'll ever get enough of you,” he said rubbing his hands up and down my body. Soft, firm squeezes followed his gentle caresses. “Too bad, though. ‘Cause tonight I want you sloppy, disgusting, nasty even,” he said kissing my lips. I let out a small moan as I was being sucked into this fantasy, so quickly and so intensely.

Terry's hands moved down to my thighs and rubbed slowly. His hand slipped between my legs. The tips of his fingers grazed the lips of my pussy. I was beginning to squirm under his touch. “Please, do something. Anything!” I whimpered. Terry's eyes slowly rose to meet mine. He laughed at my begging. “You're gonna wish you neva said that,” he said as he climbed onto the bed. His legs rested on each side of my waist so he was straddling me.

“Look at me,” he said lifting my chin. He pushed the pillows between my back and the headboard before moving up a little more so that he was right in front of me. I was at eye level with his dick print. “I want you paralyzed by the end of the night. I want your throat sore, pussy swollen, and ass stinging. Since you like talkin' back, let's start with that throat,” Terry said unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. Naked and afraid was an understatement for how I was feeling.

He pulled down his pants and boxers altogether so they were resting on his thighs. His dick was already hard as a brick. His enjoyment was evident from the amount of precum leaking from his tip. “Open!” Terry barked. My eyes tracked the movements of his dick, swaying in my face.

I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue while making eye contact with Terry. He placed his hand at the base of his dick and began rubbing it across my tongue. I could feel his precum dripping on my tongue. “You don't even realize what I'm about to do to you,” he said pushing his entire dick into my mouth without warning. I gagged around him. “Unh unh, what you gaggin’ for? You don't remember what you did that night? Why can't you handle this dick now?” Terry said fucking my mouth. My head was pressed against the headboard as he used me. Spit bubbles were forming as drool pooled from the corners of my mouth.

He was using my mouth like a pussy. I would probably be drowning in my saliva if I wasn’t sitting up. I wanted to smile so bad, but his dick was starting to hit the back of my throat with force. I moaned around his dick and slurped up the spit seeping from the corners of my mouth. “Oh, you like this. Don't you, you nasty bitch!” Terry said smiling down at me. His hand snaked around the back of my head, acting as a barrier between my head and the headboard.

Unbeknownst to me, he was locking me into a fixed position. He placed his other hand on the wall above the bed. Using this position as leverage, Terry's thrust grew harder. I couldn't move my head even if I wanted to. THIS WAS THE EPITOME OF FACE FUCKING. I opened my mouth wider and began breathing through my nose. I relaxed my throat as much as possible, but it was getting hard. Terry's head fell back. The grunts and moans he let out were fueling me to keep going. I had never heard Terry's moans become this deep— not even the first night.

Tears were falling from my eyes as I clamped them shut. I was taking this shit like a fuckin' champ. Terry pulled back a little to release his dick from my mouth, causing me to gasp for air. “Spit and breathe,” Terry ordered. I opened my mouth, letting all of his precum and my saliva fall from my mouth. “Good girl. Don't relax, yet. I'm not done wit’ you yet,” he said pushing his dick back in.

Terry was keeping his promise. My throat was getting sorer the more he thrust. That's when I realized what he did. He wasn't giving me a fuckin' breather or break; he was edging himself so that he could keep going. This man really was a monster!

“Oh, you can handle it. Right, Big Mama?” he laughed. The look he was giving me was so devious. He knew what the fuck he was doing. I clenched my fists, tugging at the cuffs. His thrusts slowed, and his hips stiffened. He grabbed the hair at the back of my head. He yanked my head back and pulled out. He palmed his dick, aiming it at my open mouth. His cum spewed out in milky ropes. It landed on my tongue and lower face. “That's it, baby. Nasty just how I like it,” Terry groaned rubbing his dick through his cum and smearing it all over my face.

Terry slid back from me and got off the bed. He stood on the side of the bed and finished undressing himself. I took full advantage of this break to recollect myself. Terry turned back to face me and undid the cuffs. He placed them on the nightstand. Turning away from me, he grabbed my ankle and pulled me to the center of the bed. I gasped in shock. What the hell was he about to do now?

“Turn over and arch!” Terry demanded. I turned over and arched my ass in the air. “I can't wait to see what you look like after this,” he said palming my ass. Getting back onto the bed, Terry positioned himself behind me. I was still a bit confused by Terry's statement. What did he mean by that?

Before I could finish my thoughts, Terry's hand came down on my left ass cheek.

smack

“Shit! No warning, Daddy?” I whimpered. “What for? There's nothing you can't handle, remember?” Terry mocked. He was definitely about to make me eat my words.

smack

“Sorry, two!” I yelled looking back at Terry. He scoffed at me. “Fuck you countin’ for? I'm not stoppin’ ‘til I'm tired,” Terry laughed. I know that fear was etched on my face, but there wasn’t anything I could do but take it.

smack

Over 20 smacks later

Terry was unleashing hell with every hit, causing me to lose count. Honestly, he was right. There was no point in counting. So when I got to 23, I stopped. I was too far gone to remember or focus, and maybe he knew I would be.

My face was in the sheets, and my tears were creating a wet spot beneath me. “You done talkin' shit, or do we need to keep goin’?” he asked. “No, I'm sorry!” I begged. “That's what the fuck I thought!” Terry grunted back.

The entire time he was spanking me his dick was pressed against my ass and pussy. I could feel every movement he made, no matter how small. He was definitely getting off on this, and so was I. As much as I was enjoying this, I wanted Terry inside me. NOW! I needed him. I felt like I was on fire. If you told me I would find pleasure in getting my ass beat, I wouldn't have believed a word you said. This was different— a good different. A different I could get used to.

I was in my head when I felt Terry's hands in my hair again. “Hey, do you hear me talkin' to you?” he snapped. Fuck! I had no clue what this man had said to me. Pleasure had taken over, and I had dissociated for a moment. “Sorry,” I whimpered out. “Breathe. I need you alive. You can die on your own time,” he said. I could literally hear him smiling.

I looked back over my shoulder with my eyebrows knitted together. “Fix your face, or do I need to?” he asked rubbing his hands all over my ass. He drew his hand back. “No!” I screamed, pushing away.“Aww, look at you! Who's scared, now? Huh?” he laughed. I hated it when he laughed like this. It pissed me off to no end. It made me feel like he was laughing at me.

“Shut up and fuck me already!” I yelled. I paused at my own remark. I was so caught up in the thought of him laughing at me that I probably made my biggest mistake of the night. “I mean… I was gonna do that anyway. But now… imma fuck the shit outta you, so don't run,” Terry said grabbing my hips. He reached between us and placed his dick at my entrance.

I knew not to expect him to take it easy. He pushed in without stopping and instantly bottomed out. “Fuck!” I moaned. Every inch of him was buried inside of me. I leaned forward, trying to find relief. “Nah, where you goin’? You told me to shut up and fuck you, right? So, whatchu runnin’ for?” Terry said pulling me back.

His hips went to work. There was no build-up or time to adjust. “Daddy! Oh, shit!” I shrieked. Terry's dick was hitting spots I didn't know I had. My pussy began clenching around him. “Ahh, fuck! You good pussy havin’ bitch!” Terry mumbled. How the fuck was I this close? He had just entered me, and I was already close to cumming. How?!

Terry pounded into me like he was trying to make a second hole. I put my hand behind me, reaching for his stomach. Without a word, he grabbed my hands and pulled them behind my back. If he kept pounding me like this, there was no way I was lasting longer than a few minutes.

I could feel Terry moving behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see him staring at the full-length mirror in the corner. Terry turned back around to see me looking at him. As soon as that smirk returned, I knew he was up to no good.

His arms looped through mine as he lifted me from the bed. He carried me to stand in front of the mirror. “Mama, we need to have a serious talk. You remember what I asked you for earlier?” he asked. “What are you talkin' about, Daddy?” I questioned in confusion. “Having my baby. Remember that?” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Yes, but…” I started to speak before he cut me off. “But nothing. Here's the deal, Mama. You can't cum until you agree to it,” he said reaching between us.

He pushed himself back in, causing us both to moan in unison. “Damn it. That's not fair. Ahh, fuck!” I moaned. “Life isn't fair, baby girl. I told you what I wanted, and you ain't leavin’ this room ‘til I get it,” he said bending me over. He was once again fucking me mercilessly. Bottoming out with every stroke. His thrusts were not letting up. “Look at yourself. Come on, look!” Terry said gripping my hair. He pulled me up so my back was against his chest. Finally slowing down his strokes, he forced me to look in the mirror. “Tell me we wouldn't make some pretty babies? Unh unh, look. Don't close those eyes. Look at yourself, pretty girl. You tellin' me you wouldn't want a little you runnin’ around? Huh?” Terry asked while still slowly fucking me. The pleasure I felt was more intense than anything I had ever experienced. I don't know if it was the mirror or a combination of tonight's activities, but something was making me delirious. Here I was once again succumbing to the sorcery of Terry's dick.

“Talk to me. You want me to call you Big Mama, right? Right? That's what you want, Mama?” Terry asked speaking directly into my ear. The warmth of his breath radiated through my body. It was like I could feel everything— the way every vein in Terry's dick was protruding, the way the muscles in my pussy were contracting, the way Terry's balls smacked against my pussy, and the way I was surrendering to my own pleasure.

“Fuck it! Cum in me, Daddy. I want it!” I yelped. I needed to cum badly, and I could tell Terry needed to, too. His strokes were getting sloppy, and his hips were stuttering. “Yeah, you want Daddy to fill you up?” Terry said kissing my neck. “Yes, please. Cum in me. I wanna… ahhh…. I wanna have your baby!” I yelled. “ Then, take this dick, baby girl. You can do it,” Terry said, grabbing my hips. He reached around and began rubbing my clit while maintaining his pace— slow and deep. “I’m cumming,” I said panting. “I know, baby. I know. So is Daddy,” Terry said tightening his grip on my waist.

With one final thrust, Terry and I both came undone. His arms held me in place as his head fell on my shoulders. His embrace was strong and intentional like he was seeking completion.

Minutes passed as we stood there in bliss, coming down from our highs. Terry's arms slowly loosened from around me. I stumbled a little, almost falling forward. “You good?” Terry asked, turning me around to face him. “Yeah. My legs hurt. Well,… truth be told, all of me hurts,” I giggled. “It's okay. Daddy's gotcha,” Terry said, picking me up bridal style.

He walked back to the bed and gently sat me in the center before lying beside me. “Come here, Mama. I know I chose a crazy moment to bring up babies. But, let me know now. Were you serious?” he questioned. I laid back and put my leg over Terry's waist. “I mean… I don't know. I wanna say no, but deep down, I wanna say yes, too. Maybe?… You don't think it's too soon?” I questioned back, laying my head on his shoulder. “Babygirl, the choice is yours to make. Your body, your choice. If you feel it's too soon, that's fine with me. I can wait,” he said kissing my forehead. “Do you really want to be a father?” I asked him. “I've always wanted to be a dad. I just never felt comfortable enough to do it,” he said looking down at me. “So, what's making you so comfortable now?” I challenged. “You don't get it. Do you?” he asked, smiling down at me. “Get what?” I asked.

Terry lifted me so that I was straddling his waist. “You don't see yourself the way I see you. You exude this aura of love and kindness that draws people to you. Your love language is love itself. And to me, you are love… I hope that makes sense,” Terry said stroking my cheek. “It… it does,” I said as I started to cry. “Oh, no. Mama, I didn't wanna make you cry. I just wanted you to know how much I love you,” Terry said pulling me into a hug. “I love you, too. That was… that was just… a lot… for me,” I stuttered between sobs.

Terry's arm engulfed me deeper into his embrace. This was probably the safest and most loved I had ever felt. So, maybe, just maybe… ONE WON'T HURT.

Taglist: @persethegawd @kimuzostar @brattyfics @avoidthings @5headsupremacist @insidefeelingofanadult @kirayuki22 @nayaesworld

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@qtmkenedy03 @prettypink-princesss @teeresaresa

[endless-weightless]

Ford Pines x Fem!AFAB!Reader NSFW headcanons

Oh lord I am so obsessed with this 12-fingered nerd.

These are kinda messy and not thoroughly proofread so apologies for any typos or grammatical errors.

WARNINGS: Brief mention of BDSM and trauma-based kink

The best way to get this man to listen to you or to shut up is to whip out your tits. Deadass. Whatever was going on in that big brain of his will instantly be silenced by the sight of your boobs. He really likes your boobs.

HE CAN FIND THE CLIT!!! 

He’d ask you what feels the best when eating you out and would want specific instructions. Honestly, he’d write journal entries about his “research” if he could (he probably would LMFAO).

Whimpers when you rake your nails down his back.

Has a written list somewhere containing every necessary part of aftercare. He’d have it memorised pretty quickly but is always ready to add anything you’ve mentioned wanting to do post-fuck.

And although he’s perfect with aftercare, the second you guys are done taking care of each other and making sure you’re both alright he’s knocking the fuck out. He will never beat the sex coma.

He’s so smitten by you it’s not even funny.

I doubt he’d be super into kink or BDSM but he’d be down to try it. I feel like he’d enjoy being dominated the most but any sex with you is the best sex. However, I do think he’d enjoy pain more than the average person (this is probably the result of all the shit he went through, like kinks formed from trauma).

This man is both a nerd and a geek so if you cosplay your character from DD&MD he’d probably faint.

Gets all flustered and nervous when you eye him up. He still doesn’t understand he’s hot.

Definitely gets teary-eyed when he finishes. Partly because he’s just a physically sensitive guy but mostly because he’s so in love with you and despite how rough and raunchy sex can be for you two he still sees it as something super intimate and romantic.

Aftercare always consists of you two holding each other for a while. Then if you’re both up to it he’ll run a hot bath (where you both fight to stay awake because y’all are so damn tired).

One of his fantasies of you is you giving him head under his desk while he researches or writes. He’d be too scared to admit it though so he’d just quietly pray you one day find the urge to do it on your own.

[inkedbydesire]

Jealous (18+)

Jey Uso x Black Fem Reader

Warning: 18+ Content, SMUT, MINORS DO NOT ENTER

Summary: Everybody does it right? But no one ever wants to talk about it. And you damn sure don’t want to be caught doing it. Your boyfriend Joshua Fatu (aka Jey Uso) was supposed to be out of town (like always). His schedule as a Pro Wrestler kept him constantly traveling away from you. You two spent more time away from each other than you did together. But you never complained because to you, he was worth it. But you still had certain ........... needs. Most of the time you fought those needs until you were near him again but on a few other occasions, you allowed yourself to be consumed by them. And tonight was one of those nights. But what happens when Joshua comes home a day earlier than expected and finds you in your bed enjoying yourself...... without him.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I felt like showing Jey a little love. I apologize in advance for any grammar errors or typos.

*************************************************

"I'm a liar sweetie. I cheat on niggas too. (I DO). You probably shouldn't trust me or I'll hurt your feelings boo. I don't wanna be here but my ex won't take me back so my broken ass is here small talking over apps."  

You let out an audible laugh even though you'd already seen this scene over 100 times. But no matter how many times you've binged Insecure due to it being one of your comfort shows, Issa's antics never failed to put a smile on your face. You shook your head at her nonsense before averting your eyes to your phone. You picked it up in hopes to have received a message from your boyfriend whom you messaged over 30 minutes ago telling him how much you missed him. But sadly as you looked down at your screen, there was nothing. It was currently 1:05 am so you figured he was most likely sleeping in his hotel room after a long day of press and performing in his wrestling event.

This was a weekly occurrence for you guys so this routine was familiar. But being familiar with something doesn't make it any easier. You still missed him terribly when he was on the road. When you met Joshua over 6 months ago, he was very upfront about his lifestyle before things got serious. His career kept him constantly traveling to different cities almost weekly so it was hard for him to lay down a lasting foundation. This had been a problem for him in previous relationships. He told you that he didn't want to end up hurting anyone else or himself so he had sworn off relationships for a while. You two were only supposed to have had a situationship type of thing. It was just supposed to have been two people enjoying each other's company.

But real feelings always have a way of showing up uninvited. Before you knew it you two had fallen for each other. It took you by surprise the most because you never expected to fall so deeply for a man you met in a Waffle House on a drunken night out with your girls. After a long honest talk, you and Joshua decided to try at a relationship even with all of the obstacles you both knew would be in front of you.

But truthfully, the only real obstacle was time. That was something you were already privy to before going in so you never complained. But that didn't stop you from missing the hell out of him anytime he was away. The longing grew more intense when the sun was down and tonight was no different. You were laying here wide awake rewatching Insecure with nothing but Joshua Fatu on your mind. You craved him tonight in a way that was hard to ignore.

And boy did you try.

Maybe it was because you were ovulating due to your pending time of the month. Or maybe it was just because you loved him. But whatever it was it was unbearable.

Joshua would be back in town tomorrow and would be more than willing to satisfy your needs. You knew that. But tonight...... you just couldn't wait that long. Pushing aside your comforter you got out of bed and walked over to your dresser. You opened the drawer that contained your underwear and rummaged through it for a few seconds. It didn't take long for your fingers to wrap around what you were seeking. With your rose in your hand, you retreated to your bed and quickly climbed in.

God, please close your eyes you thought to yourself before reaching over to your nightstand and grabbing your MacBook. You needed a little help getting in the mood and you knew just what would do it.

You clicked around on your laptop before reaching the private folder you were looking for. You hit play on the file then placed your laptop beside you as you slid down onto your back.

"Why are we recording this"  You heard your own voice coming from your laptop followed by the sound of you giggling.

"For fun ... for memories" Joshua's voice answered back.

Now, you weren't crazy enough to let any man get you on camera. That was one of your golden rules. But you did however mutually agree with Joshua to audio record a few of your steamy sessions. You thought it was harmless fun and now you were grateful you had them saved for moments like this since you weren't that into watching porn. You’d rather close your eyes and listen to one of your and Joshua's audios and mentally travel back to that moment.

As you heard the sound of you and Joshua kissing you pulled the oversized shirt, that oddly enough belonged to him, up and slid out of your panties. You kicked them the rest of the way off with your feet as you got more comfortable.

"I been waiting to taste you all damn day baby girl" you heard Joshua's voice say followed by the sound of him lapping up your juices. Your body shuddered at the memory of his talented tongue as you felt an urgent throb build between your inner thighs. You clicked on your rose while you pulled your legs apart. As you reached down to please yourself, for a fleeting moment you wished that Joshua was there.

But unbeknownst to you, he was only a few minutes from your apartment. In a rare turn of events, he was able to travel home a day earlier from his wrestling event than he had in mind. When he arrived back in the city nearly an hour ago, he dropped by his apartment, freshened up, and got right back on the road headed your way. He missed you fiercely and knew you had to be feeling the same way.

He wanted to call and tell you all about it but he thought surprising you with his sudden presence would be better since he rarely got the chance to do so. It pained him to ignore your message about missing him a little while ago but he didn't want to spoil the surprise. But he had a few ways in mind on how he would make it up to you.

Pulling into your apartment complex he quickly found his regular parking spot. He turned his engine off and then grabbed the duffle bag that contained a few day's worth of clothes knowing he would be staying with you for the next couple of days. He damn near jogged up to your apartment powered by his readiness to see you. When he got outside your door he put the code into the lockbox that contained your spare key. He used it to unlock your front door and then returned it to where he found it. He put his hand on your doorknob and quietly eased into your apartment locking the door behind him. He figured you might be asleep right now and only planned on waking you after he slid into your bed and wrapped you in his arms.

He dropped his duffel bag near your sofa and lightly walked towards your bedroom. As he neared your door he heard something that immediately made him stop in his tracks. He leaned his ear towards your slightly cracked door thinking that he was hearing things.

He listened for a few seconds.

No, he wasn't tripping. Those definitely were the sounds of your moans. He knew that like the lyrics of his favorite song.

Beyond curious he cautiously pushed your door open just a little further. Clearly, you were preoccupied and he didn't think you would notice and you didn't. He was able to gain a full view of your bed and what you were doing on it. You were so wrapped up in chasing your climax that the figure looking at you through the slit in your door went unseen. Through the glow of your tv and laptop, he watched your chest heave up and down and your legs shake as you pressed the rose he didn't even know you owned against your clit.

Joshua traveled so much that he figured you had to do something to hold yourself over until he got back but he never thought he'd be witnessing it. He listened to your moans as he watched your body jerk and twitch in a way he thought only he was capable of doing.

Despite the growing bulge in his pants that he had to reach down to adjust, he found that the sight filled him with unwarranted jealousy. Here he was rushing to get back to you and you didn't seem to be missing him at all. In fact, it looked like he was the last thing on your mind. He knew that it was selfish of him to expect you to wait for him to fulfill your sexual needs but part of him wished you did. If anyone or anything was going to make you shake and moan like that he only wanted it to be him. He felt like it was his job and right now you were giving it away.

As he kept his eyes on you he fought extremely hard against the urge to burst into your room to ruin your moment. He knew that you might be agitated or even mad but he would make it up to you by making you cum countless times like he was known to do. And that would set everything straight.

He hesitated for a long while but ultimately with reluctance decided against it.

Taking a step away from your door he waited until he heard the high-pitched moan of you cumming before he walked back towards your front door. Unlocking it again he grabbed the doorknob opening and closing it louder to get your attention. He had plans to bring up what he saw but not just yet. 

Your eyes jolted open from your state of bliss at the sound. Still feeling the effects of your climax you sat up as quick as you could manage and reached over and clicked on the lamp beside your nightstand.

"IT'S ME." you surprisingly heard your boyfriend Joshua's voice yell. You were relieved because, for a split second there, you thought it was an intruder. Joshua was not supposed to be showing up to your apartment tonight.

The distance between your front door and bedroom wasn't that far so you had no time to find and put your panties back on. They were somewhere tangled in your comforter and sheets. But you did have time to slide your rose underneath your pillow, throw your comforter across your lap, and close your laptop before Joshua neared your door.

"Hey baby........ how are you here?" you asked him as he entered your room. You knew that he had one more night away from you so you were a little confused. But maybe there was a change in plans that you didn't know anything about.

But the hows became irrelevant as your heart swelled at the sight of the man you loved.

You wanted so badly to jump into his arms but your legs were still weak from what you were doing no longer than 5 minutes ago. You didn't want to risk wobbling or falling. That would definitely tip off to Joshua that you were in here up to no good. And you didn't want him to know that you were just in here masturbating. It seemed immature but you would be so ashamed if he found out.

You thanked God that he didn't show up to your apartment just a few minutes earlier or he would've caught you right in the middle of the act.

You pushed those thoughts aside as you watched him step out of the Nike slides he had on before walking over to your bed and standing there.

"You not happy to see me?" He asked you. The way it came out sounded like he had a little bit of an attitude. You were clueless on why he would have one with you so you ignored it and chalked it up to you over analyzing the situation because of what he almost caught you doing. And you knew he was most likely questioning your happiness to see him because you didn't dive into his arms like usual. On any other day, you would've been out of your bed meeting him in the living room.

"I'm always happy to see you, Josh." You answered him with a reassuring smile. You couldn't physically show him right now so you had to choose the right words.

"Umm .....  what you doing up this late though?" He asked you.

"Couldn't sleep." You responded.

"So what you been doing to pass the time?" He asked squinting his eyes at you a little.

"I've been watching Insecure.....  like always" You answered him jokingly as you pointed towards your TV where Issa's crazy life was still playing out on your screen.

"That's all?" Joshua asked while raising his brows at you.

As your eyes remained locked on his you weirdly started to feel like you were under interrogation. You searched your brain but couldn't figure out what for. But it definitely seemed like Joshua was trying to get something out of you.

What though?

The only other thing you were doing before he showed up felt too personal and embarrassing to say out loud so you had no plans on disclosing it to him.

"Yep.... that's pretty much all," you replied to him lying while you shrugged your shoulders. Joshua stared at you for a moment longer before walking over to the side of the bed that you were on.

"That's funny 'cause that's not what I saw." He stated as he sat down near you.  His words caused your heart to sink to the pit of your stomach but you had to keep your composure.

"And what did you see?" you asked him already feeling like you knew the answer but needing the confirmation before you started freaking out. Without immediately responding Joshua just looked into your eyes with a smirk and it all started making sense. You felt like you were being interrogated earlier because you were. Joshua already knew the answer to everything he was asking you because he already knew what you had been up to.

You wondered how in the hell did he know though ....

After a few seconds of shuffling things around in your brain, you put two and two together and figured Joshua must've come into your apartment a whole lot earlier than he made known. You were so consumed with pleasuring yourself that your apartment could've been on fire and you wouldn't have moved a muscle. So you damn sure didn't hear him entering your apartment or coming near your door. You noted to yourself that you needed to be more attentive the next time or at least tackle the basics like closing and locking your damn bedroom door. But you weren't expecting Joshua tonight so you didn't think you needed to be that cautious.

"I didn't even know you had one of those things," Joshua said bringing you out of your thoughts as he reached beside you and started running his hand over your comforter. When he didn't find what he was looking for there he then moved towards your pillows.

"Okay." you quickly said while grabbing his hand before it made contact with your rose. It clicked in your mind that that's what he was feeling around for.

"If you already knew what I was doing .... why you come in here like Inspector Gadget?" you asked him.

The thought of him seeing you in that intimate moment was sending waves of crippling embarrassment through you. Joshua was your boyfriend and had seen you in way more compromising positions but this whole ordeal was still awkward as hell to you. Discovering that something you thought you were doing in private wasn’t as hidden as you thought is a deeply embarrassing feeling.

But you still wanted to be mature about everything.

"I just wanted to see what you would say. No wonder you in here acting like you didn't miss me. You got me replaced." he said.

You searched his face for more amusement because he was clearly getting a kick out of all of this but to your surprise, he actually looked rather serious.

"Wait ... you accusing me of replacing you with an object?" You asked him after you two silently stared at each other for a few minutes. This realization overshadowed any embarrassment you felt about the situation. Now you understood why he seemed to have had an attitude with you when he first entered your room. He saw you with your rose and got jealous. It was taking everything in you not to laugh in his face.

"It's okay for you to enjoy yourself when I'm not here. I understand it. But I'm just saying you were enjoying yourself a little too much." He stated still serious as a heart attack which made it a lot harder to contain your laughter.

"Josh you're not being replaced." You chuckled as you placed your hand on his shoulder to reassure him not believing you actually had to do so. You couldn't believe that this was a conversation you two were actually having.

"I only pull it out when I miss you and I can't stand it anymore," you told him.

"I don't think you understand how badly I want you when you're not here Josh" you added with honesty as your eyes locked on each other's. Yeah, there were certain things you could do to try to pacify your desire for Joshua but nothing compared. So for him to feel a way about an object was bonkers to you. But at the same time, you found it kind of cute.

"I'm here now." Joshua responded to you.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" you asked him playfully as the atmosphere in the room shifted.

"Let me show you," he stated as he reached down grabbed your leg, and pulled you closer to him on the bed.

"My bad for coming in here tripping but it was because I missed you, baby girl." He admitted before leaning over and placing a small kiss on your forehead. You smiled at him as he moved down and pecked your nose before moving to your mouth. You two then fell into a kiss that had the passion of two people who hadn't seen each other in years rather than a few days. You relished in the moment knowing you had to make the most of any time you got with him. That was the basics of your relationship. Every single moment counted because he would be on the road again in the blink of an eye.

As Joshua's hands roamed all over your body he tilted his head down and planted soft kisses on your neck. As he tossed your comforter aside he moved back up to slip his tongue into your mouth.

A couple of intoxicating minutes later, Joshua broke the kiss by standing up leaving you needing way more from him. He then posted up on the side of your bed and you giggled as he reached down and pulled you by your ankle to position you in front of him. You then had the pleasure of watching him as he pulled off his hoodie and shirt all in one swift motion. As you took in how absolutely fine he was your inner thighs throbbed needily. Sometimes all it took was just looking at him to leave you soaking.

"Lay back for me Y/N." He requested and you eagerly did as you were told without any hesitation. You scooted up on your bed and laid back in front of him as he positioned himself between your legs. Staring down at you while running his tongue across his lips, he placed one of his hands on your thigh. He slowly trailed his hand up glazing your clit with his thumb which made your legs involuntarily jolt because you were still sensitive from what you were doing earlier. He ran his thumb up and down your clit teasing you for what felt like ages. It made your wetness grow but it also frustrated you. Then he left you feeling desperate and depraved again as he took his attention off of you for a split second to rid himself of his pants and boxers.

He held his dick in one of his hands while he pushed your legs further apart with the other as he repositioned himself. You sucked in a sharp breath as he ran the tip of his dick up and down your entrance coating it in your wetness. Again, he did that for what felt like ages while you laid there desperately needing more.

"Josh" you breathed out his name as he lifted his dick and tapped it down on your swollen clit.

"Please" you urged him as he repeated the same motion with more pressure making you squirm and reach down to grab hold of his wrist.

"Please what?" He asked you while flicking his eyes up to yours. You knew that he knew full well what you wanted but he loved to play this game. He loved to get you a position where you were practically begging for his dick before he gave it to you. And each time you would feed into his ego.

"Fuck me, Josh .... please" you begged with a pout giving him what you knew he was seeking. He smiled down at you and before you could say another word or prepare your self he suddenly gripped you by your hip and sank his full length into you. But you soon found out that Joshua wasn't done with playing with you yet as he pulled out of you and went back to teasing and tapping your clit with the tip of his dick. You laid there beyond frustrated but felt satisfied when he slipped into your wetness again.

"Fuck" you muttered lowly as he eased in and out of you slowly making your body shudder with every stroke.

"Feels good baby?" He asked you as he kept that same deliberate speed while his dick continuously glazed against your g-spot. You nodded at him as you gently bit down on your bottom lip.

"Say it," he told you as he slipped in and out of your wetness.

"It f-feels good Josh. It feels so fucking good." You expressed to him as you felt pleasure filled knots building in the pit of your stomach. Closing your eyes you focused on trying to hold off climaxing as you grew wetter for Joshua as his speed quickened. Your eyes only flew open again when you heard the familiar buzzing of your rose. You looked up at Joshua wondering when and how he managed to reach over and locate it without your knowledge. But you were so drunk on feeling him inside of you that your mind was completely preoccupied.

"W-what are you doing?" you were barely able to ask him as he didn't miss a beat fucking you. His still plunged in and out of your entrance as he held your rose in the hand he wasn't using to hold your legs apart.

"I wanna try something." He responded.

"Try wh-" you began to ask but were completely cut off by Joshua bringing your rose down onto your clit. Now you could handle your rose on its own but combined with Joshua's dick rocking in and out of you, you almost started seeing stars at the sensation.

"J-Josh ... wait ....oooh fuck ..." you moaned out as you reached down and attempted to push his hand away not being able to handle the pleasure. Your attempt failed miserably as Joshua didn't budge. He continued to pound in and out of you as he used your rose on your clit.

"I c-can't J-Josh" you whined out to him as your toes curled and your legs violently shook. You felt tears welling up as your breathing became shallow and your heartbeat accelerated.

"Yes you can ... you got it baby"  Joshua encouraged you as he pounded deeper and deeper into your wetness. You tried to take it but the feeling was too powerful for you to comprehend causing your climax to hit you like a tidal wave out of nowhere. All kinds of profanities left your mouth as it felt like you were having an out of body experience.

Joshua was satisfied as he watched you lose yourself as you squirted cum all over his dick. That's when he knew he could use your rose to his advantage. 

[thememestrider]

40k Sfw Alphabet - Vulkan

I'm pretty new to 40k tumblr, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm yet to see many sfw/nsfw alphabets for our men, and I don't think I've seen any for the primarchs. As a big fan of the alphabets, I thought I'd do some; for my own enjoyment more than anything, but I'm hoping some of you guys will enjoy them too :)

I'm kicking off the biggest, strongest and most huggable of the primarchs: Vulkan.

Apologies for typos and ooc/lore inaccuracies

Please enjoy

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I think it goes without saying that Vulkan would be a very affectionate partner. He wears his heart on his sleeve and unlike many of his brothers, he's not one to hide or suppress his emotions. If he loves someone, he will want them to know it and he will want everyone else around to know it. Everyday. All the time. Without missing a beat.

Vulkan would show his affection visibly through physical touch, gestures and by saying it outright. Everyday, he will say "I love you". Every chance he gets, he's going to have a hand on you, be it touching your thigh when you're both seated at a meeting or resting his hand on your lower back while walking the halls of his flagship.

B - Best friend (What are they like as a friend? How would the friendship start?)

Vulkan is be the ultimate emotional-support bestie. This isn't even a head cannon: this is lore-accurate fact. When he reunited with Rogal Dorn, he gave him a hug. Before the Heresy, he believed in trying to redeem Konrad Curze. He is the most empathetic and emotionally intelligent of the primarchs, and all everybody knows it. As a friend, he'd be damn-near perfect.

As for how your friendship would start, I think it'd be pretty easy/straightforward. Right from the start, you'd feel how good the vibes around this man were and he'd feel the same way. You two would just click right away. It'd start with a simple conversation- maybe you bumped into each other at some political event, or maybe you met on the training grounds and wound up sparring or training together. From there, your friendship would only grow, and it would last for the rest of your lives.

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Is it just me or does it feel like a lot of these are almost self explanatory? OF COURSE Vulkan likes to cuddle. When you are in his arms, he knows you are safe. He knows you feel loved. And, as I very much see his love language being physical touch, cuddles make HIM feel loved.

He has no preference as to how you two cuddle- just whatever you prefer. He does like it when you lay atop his chest, where he can lay his arms across your back, hold you like a comforter, and keep you both warm.

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

At his core, Vulkan is a protector. A builder. So having a place where he can feel secure and be at peace isn't just something he would want; it's something he needs. And when you become a part of his life, this need would only grow deeper.

Since Vulkan is a black-smith, and therefore already apt at building and using his hands (wink) I can see him being a skilled cook. He'd love cooking for you, too- it's another way he can show how much he loves you.

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Of all the primarchs, Vulkan would be the best to have a break up with. As mentioned earlier, he is extremely empathetic and he has very good emotional intelligence. If he were to break up with you, it'd be with an in-person conversation where he explains how he feels and let's you down very, very gently. If you were to break up with him, he would understand, and try to ensure that you both part on good terms. However, behind closed doors, he'd be heart broken and he would grieve the loss of your relationship deeply and agonisingly.

F - Fiancé (How to they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)

Commitment goes hand-in-hand with loyalty, and Vulkan is one of the most loyal men out there. As soon as he knows he loves you, he's going to want to keep you. He wants you to be his, and he wants to be yours.

G - Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally?)

Do I really need to answer this?

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)

Again- do I really need to answer this?

I - I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I could see him saying it pretty quickly, what with how quickly and stronglyI see you both bonding emotionally. With how intune he is with his feelings, I think he'd recognise fairly quickly that what he feels for you is love and that you need to know it- if not to be in a relationship with you, then at least to give you a heads up in case you didn't feel the same way.

J - Jealous (How jealous do they get? What are they like when they're jealous?)

Vulkan is loyal. He trusts you as much as he hopes you trusts him. As such, he doesn't get jealous- he doesn't feel he has any reason to be.

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Long, deep and absolutely brimming with love. Gentle, too. Even in more passionate moments, he'd never hurt you, not even by accident. He likes to kiss you on the lips, mainly, as he considers that to be the most emotionally intimate. That said, he does enjoy it when, while laying on top of him, you kiss him down his neck and along his collarbones.

L - Little Ones (How are they around children?)

Vulkan is maybe the only primarch who is 100% perfect with children. He's just the sweetest man there ever was. I think he'd like the idea of having children, too, but only if it was what you wanted. If you didn't want kids, he wouldn't push the issue.

M - Mornings (How are morning spent with them?)

Slow and sleepy. Neither of you would want to get up. Vulkan, in particular, would simply love to spend the entire day holding you, dozing off to the feeling of your body pressed against his.

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

He's definitely falling asleep with his arms around you. Either spooning you from behind or holding you across his chest like a blanket.

O - Openess (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they reveal things slowly over time or all at once?)

As soon as it's clear how much you two click, Vulkan will begin to open up to you. Slowly at first so as not to overwhelm you, and from there, at about the same rate you feel comfortable opening up with him. I think he'd really dislike it if you kept things from him, too. Your happiness is his number one concern, and the idea that you didn't feel comfortable or safe telling him something would distress him very much.

P - Patience (How easily are they angered?)

Already, Vulkan has the patience of a saint. But with you? It's damn-near infinite. It might be thinner if he's stressed or worn down, but if he snaps at you or says something a little too sharp, he will realise immediately and apologise right away.

Q - Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail or do they forget the minor things?)

You're the most important thing in this man's life, of course he's going to remember everything about you. Moreover, he's going to use that knowledge for the gifts he crafts for you in his forge. Did you once mention off-handed that daisies were your favourite flower? Don't be surprised if the next day, you find a box with a daisy pendant left for you on your duchess. You mention how much you'd love a pet to keep you company while he's away crusading? Vulkan's going to get you a kitten or a puppy the next day- and he'll know which to get you, because he'll remember whether you're a cat person or a dog person.

R - Remember (What's their favourite memory of the relationship?)

I thought long and hard about this for a while, but honestly I struggled to come up with a specific example. Maybe you guys tell me in the comments or the reblogs what you think it might be, based on how you'd imagine your relationship with Vulkan.

S - Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Because you're a human, Vulkan would be very physically protective of you. He would want you living as far from any war as was possible, and even then, wherever you would end up living would be heavily defended by his legion. I could see him keeping you on Nocturne or Prometheus, as they are his and his sons' homeworlds, but both those places are very hostile in of themselves (Im pretty sure Nocturne is even considered a Death World), so maybe he'd set you up on a peaceful pleasure world or something of the like; overseen by a regiment of Salamanders, of course.

Vulkan is not only the largest primarch, but he's one of the most capable in combat. He's also a perpetual, and therefore functionally immortal. For these reasons, he doesn't need much physical protection- at least none of the kind you might be able to offer. But on the other hand, Vulkan absolutely needs something to guard his heart. He is a deeply emotional man and is very sensitive to grief and the suffering of others. When he looses his sons in combat or fails to save innocents from death, he will need your comfort. He'll need you to hold him tight, maybe even offer your shoulder for him to cry on. He'll need your assurance and your unconditional love. Of course, all of these things you're more than happy to give. As much as he needs and more.

T - Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts and everyday tasks?)

Vulkan would love nothing more than to go all out with all of these things a the time, but the demands of war and his duties as a primarch make it difficult to consistently. When he has the time, he will absolutely spoil you.

Regardless of how busy he is, you would always be receiving many, many gifts- jewellery, ornaments and cute, personalised knick-knacks that hand crafted by Vulkan in his forge.

U - Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

If you're not careful, his protectiveness over you could start to feel overwhelming, especially during the events of the Heresy. Additionally, his desire to tend to your every emotional need may lead to you feeling smothered. But the moment you tell him how you're feeling, Vulkan would listen. He might slip back into those habits every now and then, but again, with time and good communication, he would eventually change for the better. Doesn't mean he'll stop protecting you, though- it just means he'll be less overt about it.

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Vulkan is about the humblest man you could ever meet- vanity isn't a word in his vocabulary.

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Without question.

X - Xtra (A random head cannon for them)

The Salamanders would revere you just as much as they do their father. They'd see you as their parent, and they'd hope that you would see them as your sons. Being assigned to your personal guard would be among their greatest honours, and you would come to know every marine on your guard personally. When it was their turn to return to Nocturne to see their families, you might even come along, for if the Salamanders are your sons, their families are your families as well.

Y - Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like in a partner, or in general?)

Arrogance, a lack of empathy, selfishness and anything synonymous with those three things.

Z - Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?)

Despite appearances, I can see Vulkan struggling with insomnia and even nightmares, purely because he's such a sensitive man thrust into the most brutal and horrific wars. The insomnia would ease the moment he had you to hold at night, but his nightmares would take longer to fade. If he wakes up in a state, gasping for air and drenched in sweat, he will need you to comfort him- to listen as he talks through what he saw. To cradle his head or hold him him around the waist as he drifts back to sleep. This will become even more frequent following his torture at the hands of Curze.

[gothcsz]

Mamita! Hojala que todo esta bien contigo! I have no idea if you’re taking mini requests pero I can’t stop thinking of Javier when I listen to Amarramé by Mon laferte 😭 Si no, esta bien I also wanted an excuse to talk you again! Con amor 😘

tags: f!reader, dirty talk (in english and spanish), no use of y/n, smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe), oral (f), javi handcuffing you to your bed, hurt/no comfort kinda, fwb, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

~ 1.3k w/c - gif cred

a/n: hola bebita hermosa, gracias por dejarme este prompt y canción tan 🥵 i listened to it and immediately it gave me friends with benefits!javi energy and reminded me of the fact that this cabron carries two sets of cuffs on him... y como dice la canción: tómame del pelo y repíteme mi nombre, y ámame, pero sin querer. i hope you like it 🖤 cuidate nena y cualquiera vez que quieras hablar conmigo, nadamas mandame un dm 💋

“Stop fuckin' running.”

He growls it low and rough against your skin, biting down on your shoulder just hard enough to make you gasp, that delicious blend of pain and pleasure shooting down your spine. He's buried so deep inside you that it feels like he's touching your fucking heart.

It’s hard not to flail around like a fish out of water when each thrust is relentless, wild, like he's out to stake his claim right then and there, leaving you breathless and desperately clinging to every sensation.

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of hot, fast, dirty encounters in places you’d never imagine. The two of you never bother with beds, turning instead to dark corners, cramped car seats, the occasional bar restroom, even a closet at a friend’s house party—always fueled by a fierce need, never by softness.

But tonight is different. When he appeared on your doorstep, smelling of whiskey and impatience, you barely had time to catch your breath.

Sex with Javier was fucking amazing, the kind of chemistry that sticks in your bones.

He knew exactly what he was doing—a filthy mouth, hands that held you with just the right amount of force, and a delicious cock that hit every angle like it was his purpose. He went down on you because he loved it, his mouth a weapon of pure pleasure that left you wrecked.

He was dangerously close to perfect, if you could overlook the cocky attitude and that short fuse of his. Not that it mattered; you weren’t in this for a relationship. This was just pure, unapologetic indulgence, a mutual craving born out of that one forgettable party weeks ago that he’d somehow managed to make unforgettable.

You’re honestly not sure how the hell he managed to find out where you lived—but you barely had time to register his arrival before his lips were on yours, his hands already roaming, steering you backward until your shoulders hit the wall.

His mouth was urgent, trailing down your neck, hands lifting you as he sank to his knees with a look that dared you to stop him.

He lifted your thighs onto his broad shoulders, spreading you open, and didn’t waste a single second burying his face in your pussy, his tongue exploring every inch. He licked you slowly at first, savoring your taste, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking just hard enough to make you see stars, then lightly grazing his teeth against the swollen flesh, drawing gasps and cries from your throat.

He made you come like that not once but twice, each time rougher, more desperate, until you were clutching at his shoulders, hips rocking against his face. By the time he stood, cock hard enough to cut through those tight ass jeans of his, you were nothing but a willing mess, ready to take whatever he gave.

“Where’s your bed?”

Those were the first words he growled out since his hasty entrance, and you were so blissed out, half-dazed, that you nearly forgot where it was.

Barely catching your breath, you managed a breathy answer, and the way he moved—urgent, driven—had you wondering what set him off tonight. Before you could even form a coherent thought, he had your nightgown tugged off and tossed aside, his hands guiding you down onto the mattress with a roughness that left you trembling.

The sharp clink of his gun, badge, and cuffs hitting your nightstand sent a thrill through you. He undressed with a speed that made it clear he wasn’t in the mood to wait, and when he finally joined you on the bed, his weight and heat pressing against you made every nerve in your body hum with anticipation.

With no patience or gentleness he sheathed himself inside your cunt—just harsh intensity that made your mind go white-hot.

It was unlike any rhythm he’d set before, every thrust harder, deeper, driving into you with a force that bordered on desperate. Your eyes glazed over, tears blurring your vision as his grip on your hips tightened, leaving bruises you knew you’d feel tomorrow.

The sting from the hard spanks he’d landed on your ass burned deliciously, and every time his cock hit that unbearably sensitive spot inside you, you couldn't help but jerk forward, shattering his rhythm.

But the way he frustratingly growled your name each time you disrupted his pace only made it hotter.

After doing it too many times, Javier’s irritation finally spills over, and he pulls back abruptly, reaching for his set of cuffs. Your eyes go wide, and you try to push yourself up, words on the tip of your tongue to protest, but he moves too fast. In moments, the metal snaps around your wrist, then loops through one of the beams of your bed frame, before he clamps down your other wrist.

“Javier,” you manage, tugging at the cuffs, feeling the cold metal bite into your soft skin as you wince.

“¿Que?” He mocks, his tone drenched in condescension as he lets a smug pout play on his lips. “Want me to take 'em off? ¿Te duele?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, though, his hands finding your waist and yanking you back toward him, his cock sliding through your slick, swollen folds.

They do hurt, yeah, but you’re suddenly less angry and more turned on, trapped there, fully exposed and helpless in a way you hadn’t expected to like.

He doesn’t bother with gentleness, just sheaths himself back inside you, drawing a scream from your lips as his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back, forcing your back into a deep, sinful arch. Tears prick at your eyes as he fills you again, every inch of him overwhelming.

“Te sientes tan rica,” he groans, his words a low growl in your ear as he folds over you, pressing every inch of himself into your senses. “Pussy is so goddamn tight and wet, fuck, baby.” He rambles on, his words coming in hot waves that only half register, your mind hazy as your own orgasm looms—and your wrists throb against the cuffs, a mix of pain and pleasure blurring the line between frustration and desire.

Without warning, his fingers slip down to circle your clit, drawing a desperate yelp from you. He smirks, slickening two fingers with your arousal before forcing them into your mouth, pressing down until you gag. The strangled sound you make only turns him on more, his cock twitching hard inside you as he groans. “C’mon, give it to me. Fuck, I can feel how tight your greedy cunt is gettin’. She wants to come, doesn’t she?”

You choke out a muffled “yes” around his fingers, your mouth wet with saliva that dribbles down your chin.

He drags his damp fingers back down, finding your nipple, twisting it just hard enough to tip you over the edge. 

Your climax crashes through you, pulsing around his cock, locking him in, and he grits his teeth, fighting to hold back as your creamy release coats him, your throat raw from screaming his name.

The cuffs cut harshly into your wrists, leaving red marks you know will sting later.

With a rough groan, he pulls out just in time, releasing hot and thick across your ass, fingers still pressing into your tit as he rides out his own pleasure.

"Get these things off me,” you spit as soon as reality snaps back at you, blinking rapidly, disoriented in the rush of your comedown. “What the hell is your problem?”

Silent, he reaches for the key, unlocking you with a practiced motion, releasing each wrist as you rub your raw skin, the marks a testament to his roughness.

“Sorry.” His voice is curt, no warmth behind his words, as he gathers his clothes, already tugging them back on.

And before his cum has even dried, he’s halfway out the door, leaving you breathless and tangled in the aftermath of that unapologetic, maddening exit.

[danikamariewrites]

hii!! I was wondering if u could write a fic with azriel and one of the spies he trains, kind of like arobynn and aelin but not creepy lol. azriel always protects reader yet when rhys notices the special treatment in his court, he grows distant. angst ensues!! possibly smut whatever youre feeling!

My Sweet Spy

Azriel x reader

Notes: I hope you don’t mind that it’s in bullet form anon! I can’t believe I haven’t thought of something like this before, I did change it a little and made them fall in love (so not rlly a master and apprentice thing) I also don’t know the word count for this but know it’s a lot.

Warnings: angst, enemies to friends to lovers, fighting and violence, blood (apologies for any typos I sped through editing this)

Your father was one of Azriel’s senior spies. At 100 years old you were still acting like a petulant child, driving your father mad. Being at his wits end he dropped you off in Velaris for training with Azriel. It was more of a punishment than anything

He wanted the high lord and spymaster to set you straight

During one of your father’s more high profile missions he was attacked and didn’t survive

His death made you resent Azriel for a long time

You didn’t come to training on time or at all some days, you wouldn’t speak for almost a year, and you acted out so bad (during Nesta’s stint at the bars as well) you and Nesta were separated and it was time for an intervention

While Nesta stayed at the House of Wind you stayed in the Town House

You still refused to speak with anyone, especially Azriel, but you pulled yourself together

Though your father was a hard-ass you loved him dearly. He was the only person you had left in the world

Realizing you couldn’t blame Azriel or Rhysand for his death you started putting in the effort of training and being a better person. If anything you were really at training for Nesta. You missed your friend and she was the only person you would talk to. Meeting Gwyn and Emerie at training made you light up. You hadn’t had many friends as an adult so this group of girls excited you.

You still wouldn’t speak to Azriel. At least not in depth. You would acknowledge him, giving him nods and the occasional yes and no. Azriel tried so hard to get you to open up. He apologized about your father’s death and even went as far as buying you a box of your favorite pastries, but nothing.

Months after Nyx was born and Nesta, Gwyn, & Emerie won the Blood Rite you were starting to warm up to everyone. You even spoke to Azriel, “Thank you.” Azriel was taken aback by how quietly you approached him, even his shadows were unaware of you. “You’re welcome.” He didn’t ask for what. Azriel had a feeling that those two words encompassed everything from putting up with you to housing and training you.

You started going to family dinners and get togethers more. While you still didn’t talk much you were showing more emotion.

You were on time for training and showed improvement. To Azriel’s surprise you were more skilled than he thought. When he reported your progress to Rhys he seemed to take interest in your skills. “Maybe her father taught her more tricks of the trade than we thought.” Azriel didn’t like what Rhys’s tone was suggesting.

Azriel tensed, waiting for the order he knew was coming. Rhys gave his brother a look he knew all too well. Then the dreaded words left his mouth, “I want you to build her up. Y/n’s father was a valuable asset, we need that again.” Azriel clenched his jaw. Doing his best to bite his tongue to think about his words.

The Spymaster knew this was an order from his High Lord, not a suggestion from his brother.

So Azriel began your training. You became more observant, an extension of Azriel’s shadows. His own shadows took a liking to you. Becoming their second master on missions, they protected you.

The only missions Azriel would take you on would be a year after your training started. And they would never be solo trips. You would go with him or another partner on short missions. You were never far from Velaris and if need be Azriel could come get you if you were in danger.

There was definitely a few tense nights where you two spent the night at an inn. You two never knew how to approach each other, never wanting to say the wrong thing to one another.

Your first solo mission was given to you by Rhys. The High Lord went over his brother’s head assigning you this. “I believe you are ready to do this y/n. You have shown change and a tenacity I haven’t seen since Feyre under the mountain.”

The high praise from Rhys made your heart soar. The fact that your change was noticed made you feel like life was going well. That there was a place for you.

“Thank you, Rhysand.” You bow your head slightly. “Azriel has trained you well, and you’ve done excellent work over the last few months.” Rhys slides a file across his desk to you. Opening it he informs you that you’ll be traveling to just outside Vallahan. A male who was once on Kier’s council defected and has been on the run for years. He has crimes to answer for and you will be delivering the High Lord’s justice.

When you didn’t show up to training Azriel went looking for you. Not being able to find you in the House he went to Rhys. “I sent her on a mission to the continent. Caliban was sighted and I thought she was the perfect person to handle it.”

Steam was coming out of Azriel’s ears. “How. Dare. You,” he gritted out. Rhys’s eyes widen at the change in his brother’s mood. Azriel was borderline erratic. “How dare you make that call!” Rhys held up a hand. “Brother, please. Calm down and think—” “Don’t tell me to cam down! Y/n has never been to the Continent! And she is far from ready to do something like this on her own!”

“Az just listen—” Azriel closed his eyes, taking deep breathes. “Where?” Rhys gave him a questioning look. “Where on the Continent id you fucking send her?” His voice was growing angrier with each word. Once Rhys told him he punched his brother square in the face and stormed out of the house.

Your father didn’t make many enemies but he had one that eluded him for years, Caliban. Once considered royalty in the Hewn City he became a fugitive of the Night Court. Now you were his target. Somehow he found out that he is your mission in Vallahan. Instead of running again he decided to face you.

Caliban made it easy for you to track him. To the point where you knew it was a trap

“You look just like your father,” was the first thing he said to you. “I suppose you’ll be just as easy to kill.” All rational thoughts left your head. You saw red as you charged at him. Azriel had taught you to used controlled emotion through your fighting technique, helping you unlearn your irrational behavior.

Diving at Caliban he swiftly side stepped you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Still a petulant child I see.” You let out growl from deep in your throat. Jumping to your feet you unsheathed the dagger from your thigh. Caliban drew his own from thin air, ready to fight.

You slashed hard, chasing every step he took with a more aggressive one of your own. If Caliban was going to kill you, you were going to make it hard for him.

If you were going to die tonight you were taking this vile murderer with you.

Letting your rage take hold your moves become erratic. Distracted. Caliban lands a blow to your gut forcing you to double over. He grabs a fist full of your hair, clutching it as tight as possible he punched your face over and over again. Once your face was drenched in blood Caliban dropped you to the ground.

You were breathing heavily through your mouth trying to regain your strength. To get back up and fight again.

Caliban circles you, sneering down at you. “Poor little spy. Going to die all alone just like her father.” He lets out a deep laugh. A burst of anger rushed through you. Holding on tight to your dagger you quickly sit up and slash at Caliban’s inner thigh.

He howls in pain and drops to the ground next to you. “You bitch!” He spits at you. You laugh, collapsing on your back.

As the edges of your vision blur all you can think about is your friends. Specifically Azriel. He has been a constant, steady presence over the last few years.

All you could think about was how ungrateful you’d been to him. All the attitude you gave him that you never apologized for. All the things you didn’t let go of and had blamed him for, like your new shitty life and your father’s death.

But your life wasn’t shitty. It was good and you had a purpose.

Your father’s murderer was going to get up and you weren’t going to fight back because you were just so, so tired. And maybe you deserved to die. But you didn’t want to die without telling Azriel everything you were thinking.

Caliban screamed in pain. Turning to face him you see your guardian angel kneeling over him. Truthteller dripping with Caliban’s blood.

Azriel was fuming. His chest moving up and down with his rapid breaths. “Azriel,” you croak out. He snaps out of his trance. “Y/n,” he slide over to you on his knees, cradling your head in his hands. “It’s ok. We’re going to take you home.”

Mor appeared over his shoulder. A relieved smile gracing her full lips. Azriel stands with you in his arms. Mor holds onto his arm winnowing you both back to the Town House. Azriel brings you right up to his old room, setting you down gently on the bed.

Mor comes back with Madja in tow. The old healer giving Azriel a look that said “I know this is your brother’s fault” as she mended your broken nose.

Azriel holds your hand the whole time, being that silent calming presence for you until Madja left

“Why didn’t you fight harder? I know you could’ve gotten up.” There was pain in his voice. A long painful silence fell between you two before you answered. “I thought maybe I deserved it.” Tears silently fall down your cheeks as Azriel lightly squeezes your hand. He felt his heart crack a little. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For everything.”

Azriel shakes his head, his heart fully cleaving in two. “There is nothing to be sorry for y/n. Things haven’t been easy for you and I’ve seen that.” Azriel pulls you onto his lap hugging you to his chest as you sob.

Weeks later Azriel hasn’t left your side. Your words troubled him and he wants to show you that you deserve everything good in life. It was his mission to make sure you stopped punishing yourself for his past.

While Cassian gave him suggestions Azriel ignored his brother. His and Nesta’s relationship got off to a rocky start and the couple are still working their issues out.

Az decided to take a different approach with you. Some days you would take breaks from training. He would take you out to eat in the city or for a bonding activity, as Az liked to call it.

You gave him a questioning look the first time he suggested it. Then followed up with, “We do what I want everyday. Let’s do something you want to do.” You raised a brow at him. Feeling like this was a trap. But you’d take it. “Ok,” you shrugged and headed out the door.

You dragged Azriel from shop to shop to see where his limit would be for you buying extravagant items. He didn’t complain once though. Az just smiled and held a majority of the bags for you

Over the next few months you became closer with Azriel. The two of you have gotten so close you consider him one of your best friends. The spymaster quickly became your confidant. You opened up to him about things you haven’t even told Nesta.

It was your scheduled fudge night, where you each bring a different kind of fudge home, eat and gossip. Along with the occasional glass of wine. You were laughing about a story Az was telling you about Cassian in their 30’s. Rhys away with his father and the pair decided to party it up in the city without their brother. Azriel isn’t sure how he lost Cassian but when he finally found the General he was floating on his back in the Sidra.

“Just floating,” you snorted out covering your mouth. “Yes! He told me he saw a mermaid and just had to woo her.” That made you laugh even harder, leaning on his shoulder as you regained your composure. Azriel’s heart stutters at your palm lying flat against his chest. Your touch is soft and welcomed.

Az smiles down at you, watching the color of your cheeks go from that cherry red to their normal color. Your lips still pulled into a smile as you wipe the tears from your eyes. Azriel didn’t realize that he was softly smiling at you until you looked at him asking, “What?” He shook his head, “Nothing.” His voice gentle.

You brush it off going back to the chocolate peanut butter fudge Azriel brought. Taking a bite and sinking back into the cushions you ask for another embarrassing story. Azriel obliges because he could never deny you.

Another bonding activity you two cherish is painting. Like for the kids Feyre runs classes for you and Az find it therapeutic

Once a month, when there’s a free afternoon in the studio’s schedule, Feyre lets you two have a free paint session. You and Az set up easels to face each other and chat while you paint.

Your first painting session was silent except for the sound of the brushes and occasional question azriel would ask you. You only gave him one word answers of course. And the painting you made was a mess of colors. You just had to get your anger put and didn’t feel like trying. At the end of the hour you shoved it in the trash can and left without Azriel.

Today that first session felt like a lifetime ago. You were chatting with Azriel, gossiping and laughing like you’ve been friends for centuries

This time you were adding to a painting you started two months ago. You really wanted to get better at drawing and even asked Feyre to teach you the basics in your free time. Hands are a hard thing to draw but the skill came quite easy to you.

Putting the finishing touches on the shading of the sword you stand back and admire your hard work. It’s of one of the most important moments in your life, when Azriel taught you how to hold a sword. On that day you knew everything would change. There was a new trust between you and Azriel, he trusted you and believed in your abilities. It felt like the first time someone really believed in you, like your potential was truly seen.

In the painting Azriel was guiding your hand to grip the hilt correctly. The sapphire siphons looked like they were glowing and the white ribbon you cut on your fourth try was wrapped around your wrist.

“Are you finally going to let me see it?” Az asked, dragging his own brush in long strokes across the canvas. You squinted your eyes in thought, debating if you truly wanted to show him or wait for Feyre’s critique. “I guess,” you sigh.

Azriel laid down his brush and pallet, wiping his hands off with a paint cover cloth. Coming to face your painting his jaw dropped and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Azriel was rendered speechless by your skills. “Wow,” he breathed out. “Y/n…this is incredible. The detail. My scars even,” his scared hand reached out to touch the painting before he realized he shouldn’t. Instead he mindlessly moved to gently hold your hand.

The two of you stood there staring at your art for a while. You finally noticed Azriel had laced his fingers with yours. You smile at your joined hands, squeezing his before staring back at the painting.

Azriel looks down at you, that love sick smile you always seem to miss was on his face again. Just as he’s about to say something (he hoped would be romantic) Feyre came back from lunch. The bell above the door chimed causing you to jump apart.

“Wow!” She quickly made her way over to you to get a better look at your painting. “Y/n! This is fantastic! We must get it framed and hang it in the house.” The High Lady rambled on, praising your skills.

Azriel crept out as you and Feyre talked. He would talk to you again and there would be another time to tell you what was on his mind.

Missions these days were always vetted by Azriel before Rhys asked you to do anything. You haven’t been doing many lately anyway. Helping Azriel delegate, strategizing, and desk work has been your strong suit.

When Rhys noticed he called you both to his office. Azriel could tell Rhys was angry with him. He knew his brother’s tells well enough. You on the other hand just thought Rhys wanted a progress report on your skills again.

“Sit,” the High Lord said through gritted teeth. You tried to avert Rhy’s gaze while Azriel held strong, staring his brother down. Azriel would stand by his decision to keep you safe. That day he found you with Caliban scared the shit out of him. He never wanted you out there alone or without him again.

Rhys looked at you first. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been going into the field lately.” You shook your head, finally looking at your High Lord. “Care to explain.” You didn’t know what to say. Wouldn’t this be a problem between him and Az. “I—Az has been pairing me up less. I’ve been training more with the Valkyries and field work has been pushed back.”

Rhys let out a hum, his lips pulled into a thin line. “Azriel,” he directed his attention to his brother whose eyes haven’t left him once. “Why isn’t she out there? Is she not one of your spies? Is there not work to be done?” Azriel clenched his jaw. Once again biting his tongue.

“I have had y/n doing other tasks she is comfortable with.” Azriel’s voice was restrained. He saw right through Rhys’s questions and damn him. Azriel saw you were reluctant to go out after Caliban so he made a choice that would keep you safe. “Was it y/n’s choice or yours?” Before Azriel could explode on Rhys you rest a hand on his thigh for comfort. “It was my decision, Rhys. I haven’t been the best out in the field and Azriel found what I’m good at.” You look between the two of them with a small smile to diffuse the tension.

Rhys returned your smile giving you a nod. “I’m glad that you found something you like. Could you give Azriel and I a moment please.” You wordlessly get up and give Azriel’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

Once they were sure you were down the hall Rhys began his tirade. “You do not get to decide what her limits are. I know what she said just now, that was clearly to cover for you. But you cannot keep treating y/n like this.” “Like what,” Azriel spat back.

“Like she is a child! Y/n has come very far in her career, something her father would be proud of. By resigning her to desk work you tear down all the confidence she has built. You’ve kept her away from everything since Caliban. I needed her in the Hewn City and you told me no. I needed her in Autumn and Day and you shot those down too. Why?” Rhys was trying to keep his cool but there was a desperation to his questions.

Azriel stood from his chair. “She doesn’t want to be her father. Y/n is more than this.” Realization flashed in Rhys’s eyes. “Y/n has truly found something she is good at. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and one of your best strategists.” Without another word Azriel turned on his heel and left.

After that conversation Rhys laid off you more. He quickly realized things were more organized since you had left spying

You kept your distance from Azriel for a few days, unsure if you got him in trouble by lying to the High Lord. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. Az just suggested a new position and you took it.

Did you work for those few days? No. You took them to rest. You haven’t taken a day off in over a year so, why not relax.

You baked cookies, something you used to do with your grandmother every week. You decided on snicker-doodles to enjoy while starting the stack of books Nesta and Emerie suggested you read.

Azriel also gave you your space. He’s been by your side for months at this point. You could use a few days without him, even though it pained him. Azriel loved spending time with you. Sure you brought chaos into his life, but it was the good kind.

On day four of being apart Azriel couldn’t take it anymore. He found you wrapped in your favorite blanket in one of the least used siting rooms in the House of Wind. A fire roaring in the hearth to keep you warm, a mug of tea next to a plate of cookies ready for you when you take a break.

Putting your book down you finally notice Az staring at you in the doorway. That love sick smile he thinks you don’t notice plastered on his face. “Hey,” you say excitedly. “Come, sit with me.” You pat the spot on the couch next to you.

He plops down next to you, curling a wing around you for extra warmth. Without a second thought you snuggle into his side. A blush dusts Azriel’s tan cheeks as he looks away from you. You giggle at the sight of the feared spymaster blushing.

You gently trace his cheek down to his jaw, taking in his beauty. Over the last year you had become very taken with Azriel. He had been there for you no matter what you threw at him. You pull Azriel’s face to look at you. You met his hazel eyes that held so much love and adoration for you, you just didn’t see it.

“Y/n I, there’s something I’ve wanted to say and I just—” Azriel cut himself off with a shake of his head, leaning in so his lips meet yours in a soft kiss you’ve been waiting months for. You kissed him back, running your fingers through his hair.

Breaking apart you give him a giddy smile. It was the most genuine look he’s seen on you since you came to them. “That was better than anything you could’ve said.” You whisper, leaning your forehead against his. Az smiled back, “I still have so much I want to say. Have to say.” “I have all the time to listen.”